Once More With Feeling
by Unstoppable Hanger
Summary: 24-year-old computer programmer is reincarnated as a background character. Her first life was nothing special, but she's determined her second one will be. OC Self-insert.
1. Chapter 1: Death and Rebirth

**A/N: **

**On Updates: **I'll probably be posting a new chapter every week or two (Edit: or three or four or five) depending on school commitments.

**On the Main Character: **Is it still a self-insert if the person you're inserting isn't yourself? While Ami shares a number of characteristics with me, she has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire. Her back-story is also entirely fabricated.

**On Listed Characters**: Don't read too far into which characters are listed in the fic description. This fic will have a fairly large, diverse cast and I picked those characters kind of arbitrarily.

**On Reviews: **I want 'em, you got 'em. Reviews touching on aspects of writing (positively or negatively) are especially appreciated, but all reviews are welcome.

**On Pairings**: There will probably be some.

**On Rough Beginnings:** I have been told (and I grudgingly agree) that the beginning of this story (particularly the first chapter) needs some polishing. It was one of the first things I ever wrote, so I'm not terribly surprised. I'll probably go back and fix it up at some point, but if you're reading this then I haven't yet. This fic is generally agreed to pick up, in quality and excitement, around chapter 4. If you don't like it after that then you have my blessing to go read something else.

**Disclaimer**: No one owns anything. Edit: My legal counsel has informed me that this is not, in fact, true. My bad.

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**Chapter 1: Death and Rebirth or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Chakra**

Dying is not fun.

You would think I'd have figured that out the first time through, but, well, here I am again. There were a few differences this time. Instead of going to meet the Reaper, this time I would be greeting the Shinigami. I wonder if he will be as forgiving? Somehow I doubt it.

There were other differences, of course. This time my death might actually accomplish something, it might be just enough to…

No. I am doing this all wrong. Starting the story at the end again. Something about imminent death makes it hard to concentrate. I should have plenty of time here though. Finally, now that I can no longer use it.

Get comfortable: my story is not a short one. Nor is it a particularly happy one, though there were some times I wouldn't trade for the world.

Enough of this cryptic bullshit. I'm going to do this right. Begin at the beginning, or maybe a little earlier. Naruto would never forgive me if I told this wrong. So without further ado, here it is: the story of my death, rebirth, life and eventual return to the void.

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My first life was nothing special. I was born to parents, had a brother, went to school, went to more school, got a job, and died at the tender young age of 24 in a way that I will never tell any shinobi because they would never take me seriously again.

It feels weird to look back on my life and call it ordinary, but it was. Like almost everyone on turn-of-the-21st-century Earth I drifted through life (by everyone I mean everyone upper-middle-class in a first-world country). I was smart, everyone told me so, but that almost made it worse. I never had to try very hard for anything so I never did. I am not complaining; I was happy, had friends and was mildly successful at everything I put my hand to. I am just trying to give you a picture of who I was: someone without any grand ambitions and the accompanying spectacular failures or successes.

I do not know why I of all people got reincarnated. Maybe everyone gets a second chance. Hell, it's entirely possible everyone else has already been reincarnated dozens of times but they just keep quiet about it. I certainly wasn't telling anyone.

I still haven't ruled out the possibility that this is all an (incredibly elaborate) hallucination. It makes no difference. I lose nothing by treating it like it is as real as it seems. It would be almost impossible not to, at this point. Perhaps my "first life" was the hallucination. Something to consider in my fleeting free time.

Being born is very disorienting, especially when there is no discontinuity between death and birth. One second I was lying in a hospital, machines beeping around me. The next second I was in a hospital of a very different nature, not that I could tell at the time. A newborn's eyes do not work particularly well and my other senses were not picking up the slack. Everything was so bright, so loud. People—giants—were touching me, lifting me, rocking me.

It was overwhelming and I did the most natural thing: I cried at the top of my lungs.

In my defense, I was not in my right mind. Dying really does a number on your psyche. On top of that, my mind did not seem to be working properly. I cannot even begin to guess at the mechanics of a consciousness being transplanted into a newborn, but I don't think my newborn brain could fully handle it. A software-hardware mismatch, if you would. Add that on to the fact that I had no idea where I was, everything was huge and people were speaking a language I could not understand, and I was a singularly unhappy baby.

Unhappy is an understatement. The trauma, confusion and mental mismatch were too much for me. I withdrew from the world. Dissociation is the technical term, I believe. For the first year of my new life I had only three states: sleeping, inert and crying.

I feel quite sorry for my "parents". They tried everything. They took me to several different medic-nin, all of whom diagnosed me as—physically—perfectly healthy. They tried reading to me, playing music for me, throwing me and catching me. They bought me every toy ever made for a baby. Nothing could get a reaction out of me beyond insensate crying. It's lucky my vocal chords were not developed enough to form words or I might have raised some awkward questions.

I came back to myself shortly after my first birthday.

I awoke one morning to see a young woman leaning over me, a sad look on her face. I tried to open my mouth to ask her where I was and what was happening but my mouth refused to form the syllables and only a burble came out. She started at that and a hopeful look came over her face. She said something in a language that was probably Japanese. I opened my mouth to tell her I didn't understand her when it hit me: all of the past year, the birth, the cradle I was in, my death, my pudgy legs and stubby arms.

My mind nearly broke again, to run gibbering and screaming back into some dark corner of my head, but something stopped me.

I paused on the threshold between sanity and madness, held back by the look of hope that had come over the woman's face. Images sprang unbidden to my mind. The blurry but undeniably happy face of my mother—for that was who she must be—beaming at my father and me as we returned from the hospital. The contentment on her face as she rocked me in her arms and sang me to sleep—or tried to, at least. Her endless patience slowly giving way to tightly controlled despair. The tears she shed over me when she thought I was asleep.

She didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve to have her child, supposed to be a source of pride and happiness, turn to despair and shame. Didn't deserve to hear about little Bobby's first steps and little Alice's (or little Haruto's and Yui's, as the case may be) first word while I lay here inert and inarticulate . Didn't deserve to be responsible for spoon-feeding an inert lump of flesh that she loved desperately despite herself.

I looked her deliberately in the eyes, put my lips together and happily burbled "Mama".

Never have two syllables caused so much joy. After a short celebration, she returned me to my crib and went to find her husband.

It was lucky that 'mama' as a word babies use for their mothers is almost universal among cultures (a result of 'a' being the easiest vowel sound to make and 'm' being the easiest consonant to make while breastfeeding). She probably would have been happy with any sign of sentience at this point, but I have always had a flair for the dramatic.

Left alone now, I needed to confront where I was. Hard as it was for me to believe, I recognized the hitai-ate on my parents' heads. My blurry memories of being carried outside had the Hokage monument in the background. I was in Konoha. This was the Narutoverse.

That was actually easier to accept that I thought it would be. The existence of reincarnation had already destroyed my worldview enough that it didn't seem like that much more of a stretch that I end up inside a piece of media. If you're going to live again after death, why not do it in the world of a manga?

The Hokage monument had had four faces on it, placing me somewhere between a couple years pre-Kyuubi attack and the time-skip. That meant things were going to get very hectic pretty soon. I had some important decisions to make, but I needed more information to make them.

I heard two voices approaching speaking excitedly, so I set aside my ruminations, put on my happy face and dusted off my acting skills.

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Being a baby is incredibly boring. I'm not sure how babies stand it. I've heard people wax poetical about how nice babies have it, with no responsibilities, nothing they have to do, and the ability to laze around all day. I may have had some very lazy friends. Regardless, they are wrong. Babies have nothing they _can_ do and they _have to_ laze around all day.

I was actually really thankful that the local language wasn't English. Without the intellectual stimulation of learning a new language, I'm not sure I would've made it through my second year without cracking and revealing myself for the adult I was. Starved as I was for things to do, I almost did anyway. Instead, I "learned to speak" far more quickly than any child would or could have. By my second birthday I was talking in full sentences and performed basic abstract reasoning.

I considered holding back but decided against it for several reasons. Firstly, I wasn't sure I would be able to keep up the act. If a ninja told their two-year-old daughter not to touch hot things because they'll burn her and she unthinkingly responded "thanks for the tip, Captain Obvious", they'd be a somewhat surprised. If she were already talking like a sapient being, they might smile and shake their head at her precociousness. If, on the other hand, the most complicated thought she had previously expressed was "Mama gimme food" they would probably start checking her for mind switch jutsu.

Additionally, I wasn't that worried about seeming impossibly prodigious. Kakashi had attended the academy when he was four and _finished in one year at the top of his class_. The developmental guidelines my parents had cared so much about when raising my brother didn't seem to apply to ninjas at all. In fact, depending on when exactly this was, I might need to be seen as a "prodigy". If Oto and Suna were going to attack Konoha when I was five, I would much rather be a ninja-in-training than a civilian child who could only run and hide. At the very least if I had ninja skills I could run and hide much more effectively.

Those specific fears were allayed when, shortly after my second birthday, I overheard my parents discussing the cohort of clan heirs that were my age, wondering if I would be able to ingratiate myself to them, perhaps at the academy. They didn't say it in so many words of course, but that was the gist of it. I didn't judge them for it; from what I'd gathered opportunities for advancement in the ninja world that didn't involve exceptional skills or a high probability of grievous bodily harm were few and far between.

Now I had a choice to make as to the path my life would take. There were really three options for me that I could see. The first would be to aim for a civilian life and to elope (in the non-marriage sense) to the countryside before all the insanity hit Konoha. This had some obvious downsides. The Narutoverse was not a particularly happy place for most non-ninjas from what I had gathered: quality of life comparable to that of feudal Japan, with the addition of a truly ludicrous number of bandits and the occasional superhumanly powerful murderous psychopath.

That would have still been a possibility worth considering were it not for the fact that it would have meant abandoning my new parents. They would never leave the village in its hour of need, and I had grown to love them deeply. If children were conscious of all their parents did for them in the first few years of their life there would be way less strife between them and their parents. It is impossible for anyone with the slightest shred of empathy to see the devotion of their parents and recognize the sacrifices their parents make for them and not care for their parents in turn. Impossible to feel that unconditional love and not return it.

Which meant that I essentially had no choice but to become a ninja. As a ninja though I had two options: I could join the rank and file, keep my head down, change as little as possible and hope for the best. Or I could throw myself into the middle of things, try to get onto one of the Rookie Nine teams and use my foreknowledge to ensure things came out for the best.

Sounds like it should be an easy decision, but it really wasn't.

I know everything (for the most part) worked out in the canon storyline. Sure, a lot of people died and it would be nice if that could be avoided, but all the existential threats were dealt with. For obvious reasons, I didn't want to mess that up. That being said, I probably already had. However small a difference my presence had made, the things I was talking about were years down the road; by then the ripples would have spread far indeed.

People underestimate the power of the "butterfly effect". There are lots of science fiction stories where someone gets sent back in time and steps on a prehistoric insect. Then when they return to the modern day their job is different or their wife is dead or there's been some other change which might be huge for them but is laughably insignificant on the scale of the world.

If you went back to the Mesozoic era for a split second and did nothing but displace air with your presence, the face of the world would be completely different. Every person ever born would be different from who they were originally, if humanity as a species even evolved the second time around. Even leaving aside the fickle nature of decision-making minds, meteorology and genetics are both so chaotic, able to be influenced by the movement of a few molecules, that small changes make huge ones years later. When it came to fights between ninja, where a split second makes the difference between dodging and taking a kunai in the eye, I would not expect things to go at all the same.

But I digress. The point is that I could not count on things going the same way just because I didn't get actively involved in them. Which left the question of whether or not my active involvement would positively or negatively influence their outcome. I wanted to say positively, but that would require me to not be a liability. I would need to become strong. Really strong. Impossibly strong. The kind of strength that manifested itself maybe ten times in a generation. And I would have to do it without out the advantage of clan techniques, bloodlines, tailed beasts or dōjutsu.

I didn't know if I could do it. For perhaps the first time in my life, I was standing on the precipice of a task that I wasn't sure I could complete. I have always had a fairly elevated view of my own abilities, the inevitable consequence of never having failed at something I tried, but this…this would require hard work and determination the likes of which I could barely imagine. It is one thing to have the will to sacrifice yourself, to make the grand gestures, to push yourself to the limit in the moment. I think I could do that if I had to. It's quite another to work yourself to the bone training every hour of every day, burdened by secrets you can't share with anyone with only the nebulous threat of future danger for motivation.

Besides, all that would do would get me to the place where I could be useful in a fight, where I would then need to make the grand gestures. The fights themselves would take more from me than I'd ever had to give before.

I didn't know if I had it in me.

There were other ways I could be useful aside from fighting, of course. I'm not very confident in my foreknowledge (see above) but it would provide approximate outlines of the future that might help. My _knowledge_ on the other hand would be incredibly useful. I know that Orochimaru was starting his own ninja village. I know that Obito is still alive. I know about Akatsuki. I know what Black Zetsu really is.

Problem is, in the ninja world power _was_ authority. Kage was used to mean both political head of a village and the highest power class. To be in a position to capitalize on much of my knowledge I would first need to establish myself as a competent ninja and a master of tactics (or possibly espionage).

Also, the events of the manga looked at through the lens of the real world were just so…implausible. The important characters face a series of opponents that they manage to beat by the skin of their teeth. After each one they heal up, train for a bit, become much stronger when a new threat appears that they once again just barely manage to beat. On top of that, despite several times fighting people who were _way _out of their weight class, almost every main character made it through every fight without even serious injury. Ridiculous.

I'm not trying to disparage the Naruto manga, that's just how action media work. Without an omnipotent writer looking over the main characters' shoulders ensuring that everything would work out in the end most action heroes' stories would end pretty quickly. I had to assume that wouldn't be the case this time. If there is someone writing what happens here then it doesn't really matter what I pick, I'm sure whatever is most dramatically satisfying will happen anyway.

On top of that…I have always wanted to be special. I know that I am by no means unique in this (and yes, I realize the irony of that), but that doesn't change it. I always felt like I could be great (in the classical sense) if only I had the opportunity. And here it was: you can't get a much grander ambition than saving the world, or at least helping to do so.

That was years down the road, though, with dozens if not hundreds of fights and challenges between then and now. There was lots to do to prepare. I would start small. Baby steps, if you would. The first step to becoming a great kunoichi would begin with sticking a leaf to my forehead.

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I really hoped the zeroth step to becoming a great kunoichi was having a leaf fall off your forehead, because I was getting quite adept at that.

It had been almost two years since my grand resolution and I had instituted a training regimen of sorts. The presence of my parents hindered it somewhat, as did my annoying need to sleep thirteen hours a day. Still, I spent as much time as I could "training".

I say training with quotation marks because there really wasn't that much I could do at that age. I was wary of strength training, as I knew that (back on old chakra-less Earth) doing so at a young age stunted your growth and could have other deleterious effects. I figured chakra mitigated that to some extent, given how intensely the child prodigies of Naruto were depicted as training, but I didn't want to risk it too early. I would've liked to have kunai or shuriken to practice throwing, but I didn't think my parents would be too enthusiastic about that idea and I didn't know where else I could get some. I considered trying to recover some from the training grounds, but feared the repercussions if I were caught with them.

Let it never be said that ninja coddled their children. I spent hours every day outside "playing" alone, even at that age. Independence and initiative were highly valued and were extolled to young ninja at every opportunity. Still, my parents would probably draw the line at giving me the tools that could get someone—or myself—killed or seriously injured.

So I did what I could without tools. I threw rocks at bottles, slowly increasing the distance as my aim improved. I walked along the top of the thin, foot-high wall that surrounded our garden, first with hands out for balance, then with hands in pockets, then while balancing a cup of water on my head. I taught myself to juggle and to cartwheel. I dropped things with one hand and caught them with the other. I spent hours stretching, contorting myself into shapes I would not have thought possible as a slightly-out-of-shape 24-year-old.

Balance, reflexes, hand-eye-coordination, flexibility. Everything I thought I would need as a ninja I practiced to excess. I sometimes felt like I was trying out for the circus. I improved quickly, though I had no idea how I compared against the naturally gifted.

My parents were somewhat bemused by my activities. I intentionally cultivated the personality of a perfectionist. It wasn't that I thought it was really important to be able to _balance on one foot while catching leaves_ flawlessly, it was important that I be able to balance on one foot while catching leaves _flawlessly. _I could always have come clean about the fact that I was practicing to be a ninja. I'm sure my parents would have been delighted. Easy though that would've made things, I couldn't. I was desperate to avoid early entrance into the academy.

My childhood was a period of rare peace for Konoha. Tensions with Cloud were still high after the Hyūga affair, but overt hostilities had stopped. Children were now being allowed to have childhoods, instead of being sent off to war as soon as they possibly could be. It was rare for even prodigies to be allowed to finish the academy in a year or two, like Kakashi and Itachi had, but early admittance and grade-skipping still happened pretty frequently. I couldn't let that happen to me. By far the most effective place for me to be would be as one of the Konoha Nine, Team Seven in particular. That meant even a single grade-skip could be disastrous.

Not that that seemed likely anyway unless I could figure out how to get my chakra to work. Over the past two years I had spent hundreds of hours meditating, trying to feel and manipulate my chakra. Over time I got the sense of…something inside of me. The exact feeling that chakra has is very hard to describe.

It's kind of like the feeling of a warm drink on a very cold day, the way it heats you up, revitalizes you and spreads throughout your body. But that's not quite right…

It's kind of like the feeling you get when you touch a Van de Graaff generator, your whole body tingles and all your hair stands on end. But that's not quite right either…

It's kind of like the feeling of sunlight on your face, of wind in your hair and of earth between your toes. But none of those really do it justice…

There's nothing quite like it. It's chakra. It is. And it. Feels. _Fantastic_.

I don't know how any ninja were ever unhappy with chakra inside them. I could only imagine they got desensitized to it eventually. That would explain why ninja children were always so happy and full of life and why chakra exhaustion was so dreaded.

For me chakra was also a source of endless frustration. Despite feeling it inside of me, I still couldn't use it for anything external. Sure, I felt it whenever I did anything physical, pumping through my muscles, giving me that extra little push. I also felt it dwindling whenever I pushed myself for an extended period. After the time I tried to run around my whole neighborhood and almost fainted from exhaustion I couldn't feel my chakra for hours.

I could move it around inside me and, after endless hours of practice, could deliberately use it to reinforce certain muscles (to a greater degree than I was doing instinctively). It took me several minutes of stillness and meditation and with it I was only able to lift a rock that weighed all of ten pounds, but I barely weighed thirty myself and considered it a huge accomplishment. It left me smiling the rest of the day. When my parents asked me why I was smiling, I told them I was smiling all day as part of an experiment to see if I smiled because I was happy or if smiling _made_ me happy. Kind of an unnecessarily complicated lie, but dissembling had become second nature to me by that point, and I had actually spent a day like that in my past life.

Somehow lifting that rock was what made everything seem real. Until that day I'd felt almost like I would wake-up at any second back at my apartment to find out I had slept in and was late for work. After that small but nonetheless impossible-without-chakra feat I really, finally, fully realized that I wasn't in Kansas anymore. As this non-Kansas was not a very friendly place, that only made me redouble my efforts.

Which made it all the more annoying that this damn leaf refused to stick to my forehead.

I was sitting in the backyard of my parent's two-person apartment. It was relatively small—my mother had only just made chunin and my father was still in the Genin Corps—but it was large enough for my purposes. The sun and the wind and the earth calmed me and made me feel closer to nature which seemed to help me reach my chakra. I was sitting in the lotus position, eyes closed. I doubted the crossed legs and bent wrists had any intrinsic chakra-channeling properties, but if felt like it should help so it did.

I took a deep breath and prepared to try again. Attempt number one-thousand seven hundred and something. Just because every other time had failed didn't mean this one would. Right? Right?

I shut down that thought before it got out of hand. From what little I'd been able to find about chakra manipulation in the civilian library expectation, will and intent were crucial to the effective molding of chakra. If you thought you were going to fail, you probably would.

I sat for a couple minutes, feeling the ebb and flow of the chakra inside me, slowly gathering it in my forehead. I lifted a leaf to my forehead with the solemnity of a funeral procession and the reverence of a catholic holding the pope's pointy hat. I held it there, willing my chakra to reach out and grab it, expecting it to stay there despite gravity's best efforts.

I took my hand away slowly, tentatively, trying not to disturb the delicate web my chakra was (in theory) weaving. I lifted my hand away and the leaf stayed where it was. For about a second, until the wind stopped blowing towards me.

I scowled and bit back a curse. This wasn't working. I wasn't making any progress by myself and the day of my entrance into the academy was rapidly approaching. I'd hoped to already have the basics of the academy jutsu by then. I wasn't particularly worried about the entrance exam. I was sure I could score well enough on the intellect-based parts to make up for any physical shortcomings. Still, it was one of the large milestones of a young ninja's life, and I'd hoped to be much further along by then.

Perhaps I was old enough now that I could ask my parents about chakra without raising too many flags. Sasuke was able to learn the Great Fireball technique when he was seven and he still went through the academy the slow way.

I found my parents sitting together in the kitchen/dining room/living room (when your house only has four rooms, you get creative with their layout). Mom was sewing up a rip in her flak jacket and Dad was putting the finishing touches on a mission report. They were in their early twenties, a little on the old side for shinobi parents with a small child. Life expectancy as it was for shinobi, most of them did not wait for children.

They smiled as I entered, looking up from their respective pieces of work.

"That was fast," said Dad "I don't think I've ever seen you spend less than an hour meditating once you've gotten going."

"Not by choice, at least," added Mom. They shared a smile, probably thinking of the tantrum I'd thrown the time they'd interrupted me when I was on the cusp of figuring out chakra muscle enhancement.

"I didn't know meditation was something you could 'get going' at" I said, adding my smile to theirs. "Mom, Dad, how do you use chakra?"

My parents looked at each other, as if trying to decide who would tackle this one. Dad nodded and Mom asked "Who told you about chakra?"

"Well, Fuki's brother just became a genin and she said he just learned how to walk up trees using something called chakra which sounded like fun and I wanted to try it but she said that he said that first you had to learn how to get a leaf to stick to you so I tried that but it kept falling off and I want to walk up a tree so how do you use chakra?" I spoke with as much excitement as I could muster and told my convoluted story in one breath. I didn't want to have to worry too much that what I said was too complicated for children of my age, so I had tried to adopt the mannerisms of a child. Even if the message weren't childish, at least the medium could be. Excitability and a tendency to ramble were things I had enough of as an adult that I could pretty easily exaggerate them here.

The story was a complete fabrication, of course. Fuki was another neighborhood kid around my age and she did have a brother who had recently graduated, so it would probably check out, but I hadn't spoken to her in months. I didn't speak much to the other children. I didn't really know how to interact with them. I hadn't been a particularly sociable four-year-old the first time through and the intervening twenty-four years hadn't really taught me any better. I'm not sure it would've worked out anyway. The kids found me strange and I found them boring. My tendency for loquaciousness and disinterest in their schoolyard squabbles marked me as an outsider. Kids like to ostracize anyone who is different, so I saved them the trouble by not giving them the chance. If I'd had the opportunity to make inroads with any of the people who would end up being important (Sasuke, Hinata, Shikamaru, etc…) I would have made the effort, but from what I could tell the kids in my neighborhood weren't worth the time or energy.

I'd considered telling my parents I'd read about chakra in a book, but they were somewhat misinformed about my reading proficiency and I didn't want to get sidetracked on a discussion about that. Besides, the civilian library—the only one I'd have access to until I'd enrolled at the academy—had very little information on anything ninja-related. There were plenty of fanciful tales but almost no hard info. The most useful thing I'd been able to find (aside from the hint I'd already mentioned, which may or may not be true) was a chart of hand seals which I'd laboriously traced and practiced off of whenever my parents weren't looking. The hand seals wouldn't do anything without chakra behind them though, which brought us back to the matter at hand.

"To use chakra you first need to be able to manipulate the chakra inside you," Mom said. "Once you can do that, you move it out through your tenketsu, that means chakra points, and, depending on what you're trying to do, either use hand seals to shape it or force it to do what you want with your will."

"OK!" I said brightly. "You're a sensor, right? Can you watch me and see if I'm doing it right?"

"Sure, honey." She smiled tolerantly at me, probably not expecting anything to happen. She placed one hand on my shoulder.

I didn't really want to show how good I was at manipulating my chakra, but I'd hit a dead end and I really needed to figure out why I couldn't do anything external. I closed my eyes and began to gather my chakra but was interrupted by Mom's voice.

"Huh, that's weird. I can feel your chakra inside you but your tenketsu feel strange. We need to see someone about this."

A short visit to the medic-nin later saw us referred to the Hyūga compound. One of the Hyūga came out, prodded me a couple times, declared me cured and sent us on our merry way. Dad was waiting for us when we got back home.

"Get everything sorted out?" he asked.

"Yeah. The medic-nin said her tenketsu were partially blocked, which would've prevented her from using her chakra externally."

"He say what could've caused that?"

"Said it was sometimes caused by intense mental trauma." Mom frowned. "I wonder what could've possibly…"

I didn't like where this was going. "Maybe…I was just born that way?" I said. I perked up as if I'd just had an idea. "Maybe that's why I was such an unhappy baby?"

"Could be…"

She didn't seem convinced, but I didn't want her or Dad to dwell on this too much further. A subject change was in order.

"Mom, what were those symbols the medic drew before he looked at me?"

Mom opened her mouth, maybe to answer, maybe to talk more about my condition, but Dad turned to her and spoke first.

"You took her somewhere she'd never been before? Showed her something she'd never seen before? Are you mad, woman?" The horror in his voice unsettled me until I noticed the playful look on his face. "Now we won't get any peace for a week!"

He winked at me and almost missed the pen I threw at his face. He caught it at the last second and held it reverently in front of him. "The wise Hibari-sama has blessed me with a gift! I shall examine it carefully, for it surely contains all the secrets of the world!"

Hibari-chan was one his pet names for me. The hibari was a type of bird whose whoop-chirp call sounded a lot like 'nan de', the Japanese word for 'how' or 'why'. I had a…slight…propensity for asking questions about every single thing I saw every chance I got, a trait my parents happily indulged and Dad found hilarious.

One day after I'd spent an hour grilling him about the structure of the village's council system he told Mom that 'nan de' was clearly the only word I knew and asked her if she'd cuckolded him with a hibari. I don't think I was supposed to understand that part so I put on a confused look and asked him what a hibari was. After he'd finished laughing he ruffled my hair and said "You are, my hibari-chan". Since then it was what he called me whenever my inquisitive side came out.

I looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "Really? Does that mean you can now answer all the questions in the the world? There are so many I want to ask. How did…" It wasn't the diversion I'd been aiming for, but Mom joined in our banter and the mystery of my mental trauma was soon forgotten.

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After that my leaf sticking was far more successful, which is to say I had slight successes with it. I still struggled greatly, but after months with every spare moment spent with a leaf stuck to my forehead I was able to keep it there consistently.

I could only maintain it for an hour or so before I ran out of chakra, so I practiced reducing the amount of chakra to a trickle, until the leaf was about to fall off. I would then hold it at that bare minimum level for as long as possible.

I also started experimenting with other materials and other places on my body. Alternating sticking and repulsing my clothes was a convenient exercise, as it was something I could do pretty much anywhere anytime without drawing too much attention to myself. I got into the habit of sticking bits of paper to myself and maintaining it as I went about my day. At first I could only handle one stuck to my hand. It still fell off whenever I got distracted, but over time I got better and better at it. Soon enough I could hold it in place while I ran, jumped and did cartwheels. So I added another piece and was right back to square one.

By the time my enrollment at the academy came around I was keeping three bits of paper on me almost all the time. I really wanted to practice tree walking, but I didn't have the chakra reserves; the few times I'd tried I'd exhausted myself within minutes.

Describing that portion of my life in a couple hundred words like this really doesn't do it justice. Even now, looking back on the entirety of my life, that still might have been the hardest time I've ever had. The effort involved in manipulating chakra before you're proficient at it is almost impossible to describe to someone who's never experienced it. It is mind-numbing, figurative-back-breaking work.

Imagine doing the hardest math problem you've ever encountered while simultaneously carrying on a conversation. Now imagine the conversation is in a language you barely speak and your conversational partner has a heavy accent. Now imagine all the numbers in your math problem are in roman numerals. And you're working on a strict time-limit and if you make a single math error or misspeak at all you'll fail. And that once you've failed it will be even harder to succeed a second time. And someone is playing loud, off-key, off-tempo accordion music in your ear. And you're upside down.

Now you might have some small idea of the mental effort involved. Maybe it's easier for everyone else, as chakra is there while their mind develops. Maybe it was only so hard for me because I needed to create new paths of thought in a mind that had long since become set in its ways. I certainly hope that's the case. I wouldn't wish even a much milder, more drawn out version of what I went through on anyone.

I frequently drove myself to chakra exhaustion. I was always careful to stop when I felt the well within me dry up; I remembered mentions in the manga of people dying from chakra exhaustion, and I certainly didn't want to die before I got a chance to actually apply my hard-earned skills to anything. Nonetheless, it is one of the most uncomfortable feelings I have ever felt.

What I said before about becoming accustomed to the good feelings chakra gives you was very true. I'd stopped realizing it, but it was always there. It gave me energy, eased my pains and was a balm for my bad moods. Its absence was supremely uncomfortable. In my past life I had, shall we say, dabbled in the pharmaceutical arts, and experienced my fair share of hard crashes and harsh withdrawals. None of that compared, especially not when you took into account the regular exhaustion and chronic vomiting chakra exhaustion brought along for the ride.

I almost quit. In fact, I almost quit almost every day. The only things that kept me going were my parents. Every time I faltered, every time my will flagged, I saw them crushed under Shukaku's sand. Obliterated by Pain's Shinra Tensei. Turned into White Zetsus by the Infinite Tsukiyomi. The whole "precious people make you strong" thing had always seemed a little hokey to me, but now I saw the truth of it. For their sake I would become as strong as I needed to be. I may not have had much chakra, but I'd be damned if I weren't going to use it as efficiently as I possibly could.

Tomorrow I would be going to the academy, finally making my entrance into the ninja world. I could hardly wait.

Oh. I should probably also mention who I actually am. I thought at first that I had just been born to random parents who had not had children in the canon storyline, but it turns out that's not actually true. I didn't want to believe it when I first figured it out but between my age, my name—Ami—and my hair color—purple—it was pretty undeniable. I was one of the bullies from the main character's academy days. I was a bit character who had only appeared in a flashback. A flashback!

Well, this time through we'd see just how important a bit character could be.

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_Wow, that ending was actually a lot more ominous than I had intended. I swear Ami isn't evil or crazy, she's just excited. Tone might be a little inconsistent as I haven't fully figured out Ami's character and voice yet._

_Let me know if you see any typos or grammatical errors and I'll correct them. Normally I'd take the snooty route and say any non-typo-induced grammatical "errors" were probably stylistic choices, but I changed which tense I wrote this chapter in half-way through and I'm not positive I fixed everything I needed to._

_The theme of this chapter was time passing and you being told about it. The theme of next chapter is things actually happening, though this chapter's theme will still be an important motif. If I'm feeling frisky when I write it two or more characters might even interact with each other!_

_Hibari is the Japanese word for skylark. I have no idea what the song of the skylark actually sounds like, but I sincerely doubt it says nan de, so we'll just say the Narutoverse has a type of bird in it that has the same name as the skylark despite being completely different._

_Yes, I know that the pope's pointy hat is called a mitre, but that just doesn't have the same ring to it. Pope's pointy hat. Tragically, "Pope's NOGOOGLENO mitre" (without the NOGOOGLENO in the middle) has over three times as many Google hits as "Pope's pointy hat". The true purpose of writing this fic was to do my small part to right this grievous wrong._

_The medic-nin Ami saw as a child not noticing the problem with her tenketsu is not a plot hole, by which I mean I have thought up a plausible-sounding explanation for it: the blockage was only visible once her chakra system was more developed, as a newborn's chakra system is too faint to detect.  
_


	2. Chapter 2: Ninja Academy

**A/N: **

**On pedantry: **So I guess I should point out—since it has been pointed out to me several times—that very technically Ami is not an OC since she does appear in the original manga. That being said, her personality is completely divorced from the canon one (and her first life is original), so I will probably continue to refer to her as an OC.

**On Character Tags: **I also found out that FFnet actually has a character tag for Ami, which I never even looked for when originally posting this fic and completely boggles the mind, since she appears in all of 6 panels.

**On Chapter Lengths: **I've decided to post somewhat shorter chapters than chapter 1 was. Two reasons for this. Firstly, FFnet's default behavior of sorting by publish date vastly incentivizes more frequent, shorter updates. Secondly, the few polls I was able to find about preferred chapter length found that 3-4k words was what most people preferred, so that's roughly what I'll be aiming for. I will go outside that range if it makes sense for a chapter, of course, if there are no natural breakpoints in the appropriate places.

**Disclaimer:** Every Kishimoto is an opportunity in disguise.

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**Chapter 2: How to Win Friends and Influence Ninja  
**

The academy was not what I'd expected. I'd been so focused on the fact that it was a _ninja _school that I had forgotten that it was a ninja _school_. Don't get me wrong: I loved schooling. I'd spent almost all of my past life at school, only leaving it once I'd run out of degrees I could pursue. However, that did not mean I was excited to spend another seven years learning to count and spell alongside a bunch of ankle-biters.

A lot of our time was spent on elementary subjects: history, geography, basic numeracy and literacy. The history and geography were novel and interesting to me, even if they were presented rather simplistically. The kindergarten-level math and reading were somewhat less stimulating. Instead of focusing on the lessons, I spent a lot of time studying a subject not on the curriculum: my peers. While they watched Iruka, I watched them.

Having solid relationships with the ninja of my age group would be really important. It was likely that at some point I would need to get them to act on my word alone. Given the suspicious nature of—most—shinobi, that would probably require deep trust, the kind that could only be built through years of friendship or teamwork. I was terrified of screwing up, of making a misstep that would lower me in their eyes or insult them somehow.

I'd never actively set out to befriend someone before. I'd had friends in my previous life, sure, but they were mostly friends of friends that I'd appropriated somehow. The original friends who started the whole chain had just been people circumstances had thrown me together with—a classmate, a coworker—who had decided they liked me for whatever reason.

That approach would not work here. It had only worked before because of the number of people I ran into in an average day. Meet enough people and eventually you'd find some who like you regardless of how peculiar or asocial you were. I didn't have that luxury. I needed to connect with nine specific, and very different, people, all of whom knew each other and had complex interpersonal relationships. It didn't help that they were all five or six years old, an age I had little conception of how to relate to, and were at varying levels of intellectual development. I found myself regretting my disdain for the children who'd grown up around me. That practice socializing would have really helped here.

So I observed, hoping I could figure out what made each person tick. I had a general idea of their personalities from the manga of course, but that was mostly with respect to how they would react in a high-stress situation. Those were few and far between at the academy, unless you included trying to carry on a conversation with Naruto or Kiba. I was also unsure how much of the personalities they'd shown later on would manifest this early. Some of the defining features of the academy-aged ninja from the manga were lacking, such as Ino's and Sakura's Sasuke obsessions (something I imagined would emerge around puberty).

I observed them and I planned. I soon had them split into three groups.

Hinata and Naruto were both so starved for companionship that I wasn't really worried about them. Not about befriending them, at least. I did worry about their mental health somewhat; a lack of confidence that severe could not be healthy, nor could the abuse Naruto dealt with daily. I could easily see his drive for recognition getting him killed at some point. That and Hinata's shyness were hopefully things I could work on once I knew them better. Hinata would almost certainly befriend anyone who had the persistence to get past her prim and proper facade. Naruto would probably latch onto anyone who treated him like a person instead of a skunk. I considered befriending them as soon as I'd come to that conclusion, but I feared associating with them first would ruin my chances with the rest, pariahs that they were.

Kiba, Shino and Sasuke would each take an individual, personalized approach. They weren't close to anyone at the academy but, unlike Naruto and Hinata, seemed to prefer it that way. Kiba had Akamaru, Shino seemed far more interested in insects than people and Sasuke had his brother.

Kiba was incredibly full of energy. He had difficulty sitting still for more than ten minutes at a time. Any time Iruka tried to get us to concentrate on any one task for too long, Kiba would inevitably act out in some way. Loud "jokes", and I mean that in the loosest sense of the word, and picking fights with Naruto were two of his specialties. I never once saw him without Akamaru at his side. He shared some mannerisms with his ninken; he could frequently be seen fiddling with a piece of paper (usually our assignments or handouts) until he'd torn it to shreds (something that Iruka greatly appreciated, I can assure you), while Akamaru lay beside him worrying a bone.

In fact, it soon became clear to me that Kiba's social dynamics were closer to a dog's than a human's. Staring at him for more than a second or two was a sure way to provoke a fight with him. Iruka had been placed in a position of authority over Kiba, but he'd never actually established that authority, so Kiba tested it. Every time Iruka did not put Kiba in his place he invited further acts of defiance. Sure, he yelled at Kiba but, soft-hearted as he was, he never followed through on any of his threats. All bark and no bite, if you would.

That also explained why Kiba had such a hard time with Naruto. Despite Naruto being (in Kiba's mind) inferior to him in every way, Naruto never backed down when challenged. To make matters worse, Naruto tried to fill a similar social niche to Kiba's own. Infringed upon his territory. I foresaw a headache-inducing seven years at the academy with the two of them together.

I saw two possible avenues for approaching Kiba. The first would be to establish myself as firmly above him, but I wasn't sure how to do that without appearing overly aggressive or vindictive to the other children, something that would hinder my relationships with them. The second was by befriending Akamaru. He was a lot less prickly than his master and could likely be won over by a combination of treats and tummy scratches. That would still require some caution; Kiba was very protective of those he saw as his pack and lashed out violently against threats and slights (real or perceived) towards them.

I had a hard time reading Shino. He was standoffish and only seemed to participate in conversations to nitpick what others had said. His high collar and constant sunglasses did not help matters. He was studious and analytical but was easily offended. I had some idea of what not to do when talking to him—avoid being brash or impulsive, don't insult him or his clan and, for the love of Kami, do not step on any ants. The only idea I had for making an impression on him was to do the opposite of the things that annoyed him: speak precisely, nitpick, praise him or his clan, show an interest in insects.

Sasuke was a huge surprise for me. I had known that his personality was different pre-Uchiha massacre, but I hadn't realized the extent. He was kind and unfailingly polite. I never heard him say a bad word about anybody. He was respectful to the teachers and every Uchiha I saw him interact with. To hear him discuss the clan elders you would think them gods made flesh.

Through his kind demeanor I could see the seeds that, watered by trauma, would grow into the hard-hearted shinobi of the manga. His reserve coupled with the loss of everything he knew and loved would become coldness towards what remained of the world. His pursuit of perfection in every activity coupled with burning hatred would become all-consuming obsession. His regard for his clan and belief in their inherent superiority coupled with their loss would become unmatched arrogance.

His belief in his clan's superiority was interesting. It was not—yet—arrogance. From him it was not a boast or pretension; it was simply the way of the world. He seemed almost apologetic about it. When someone said or implied differently he seemed confused, as if they had instead told him the sun had risen in the West that morning, or that an Akimichi had turned down food.

Of everyone he was the one I spent the most time observing. He would be one of the hardest to connect to but was undeniably the most important. Getting close to him before the massacre would be much easier than it would be afterward, and being there for him while he dealt with the trauma might prevent the worst of his psychological damage. Strengthening his ties to Konoha might even prevent his defection, which would make a lot of what followed much easier.

I still hadn't given up on the idea of preventing the Uchiha massacre, but I did not give myself a high probability of success. I had nowhere near the power or reach to effect any changes myself yet. My only hope was that I could, through Sasuke, meet Itachi or possibly Shisui, and that a few innocuous-sounding words at the right time might have far-reaching consequences. If I could somehow convince Shisui to confide in Itachi, or vice versa, and put the two of them on guard towards Danzo, disaster might still be averted.

All that would first require getting close to Sasuke, which brought me back to the original problem. One of the ways I could most easily connect with him—commiserate over a demanding, impossible to please father—wouldn't even require lying or misrepresenting myself. Unfortunately, that father was a world away and few would believe the same of the laid-back genin I'd grown up with here. Aside from that, the only way I could see of connecting with him would be convincing him I had something to offer as a training partner. That was what he spent most of his time on anyway, though he didn't do it with quite the intensity he showed post-massacre.

Which left Chouji, Shikamaru, Sakura and Ino. I grouped them together because of how close they were. Chouji and Shikamaru were rarely seen apart and Ino was very frequently with them, despite Shikamaru's grumblings about troublesome women. Sakura and Ino hadn't gotten chummy yet, but given their similarities I found it unlikely that would continue for much longer.

Chouji seemed like a decent guy, if a little simplistic. His psyche was the only one I might have called normal for a six year old of the boys I'd observed here. He was never seen without some sort of snack in his hand. From what I knew of the Akimichi techniques large amounts of body mass were necessary to perform a lot of their jutsu. It was lucky he seemed to enjoy eating, or his life might not have been very fun.

Shikamaru was exactly what I expected: lazy, loyal, terrified of the women in his life. Terrified is perhaps too strong: discomfited might be more accurate. I sometimes caught him watching me watch everyone else, but I had no idea what he made of my observational habits. I was somewhat worried that he would notice the calculated nature of my social outreaches. I knew he was a genius, even if he never showed it. In hindsight it was a kind of silly fear: upon seeing someone attempting to make friends, no matter how deliberately they do it, it is the rare individual that would conclude conspiracy over loneliness. At the very worst he would've thought that I was just trying to ingratiate myself to the future clan heads, and I really doubt he would've cared about that.

I had only begun to try to figure out Sakura and Ino, and had absolutely no idea how to approach the whole group, when it was all taken out of my hands.

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About two months after we'd enrolled in the academy, my female classmates and I began attending special kunoichi classes. There, we would learn about other cultures and some of the pastimes of civilian women, such as flower arrangement. The boys had their own class, where they would learn about such manly pursuits as…farming? Gambling? I actually had no idea what civilian men did for fun in this world. At first I found it strange that we were segregated but it quickly became clear that gender equality in the "Five Great Nations" was somewhat less progressive than it was in Konoha.

The existence of kunoichi made it essentially impossible for that kind of systematic oppression. There were simply too many women who were too powerful and would refuse to stand for it. I certainly wouldn't want to be the one to tell Tsunade she was a second-class citizen. Civilian culture seemed to be more medieval in its expectations of women. That was something I planned to work on once I'd finished with this whole turn-everyone-in-the-world-into-mindless-plant-people silliness. For now, it meant that we had to learn separately from the boys, as the roles they would be expected to fill in infiltration missions were completely different from ours.

We had been sent out to gather flowers, told to create an arrangement in the Chabana style. I had absolutely no idea what that meant. Apparently we were already supposed to understand the basics of Ikebana, and the class was only to catch our mistakes and refine our skills. This was a problem for me, as I currently had no skills at all pertaining to flower arrangement. Mom had tried to teach it to me a few times, but I found it kind of silly and boring. I have a pretty fantastic memory for things that interest me, but flower arrangement was pretty far from being one of those things, and Mom's words had gone in one ear and out the other. I hadn't realized it was something I'd be expected to know to complete the academy. I had figured if I had to masquerade as a civilian I could always claim an allergy to pollen sadly prevented me from engaging in "the noble art". The only thing I remembered her saying about Ikebana was that it was supposed to be done in silence as a way of connecting with and appreciating nature. The laughter and yells I could hear from the other children made it obvious that that rule wasn't in effect here, so I was left with basically nothing.

I couldn't use the time to make a Chabana arrangement, having no idea what that actually entailed, so I walked around picking flowers randomly and used the time to surveil Ino and Sakura. Sakura had followed Ino and was now talking to her excitedly. I followed them at a discreet distance, too far to hear what they were saying. Soon enough, Ino took over the conversation and punctuated it by pointing at certain flowers. I ambled closer, hoping they were talking about the flowers. Maybe I could overhear enough to not horrifically fail this assignment.

"…And this one is Cosmos. It is the prettiest flower of autumn, like the Sakura flower is of Spring. Chabana only uses seasonal flowers, so this one is really important for it." Ino paused and turned from the flowers to face Sakura. "Why don't you know this stuff, anyway? Didn't your Mom ever show you?"

Sakura grimaced. "No, she never had time, she was always—" She cut off suddenly as something caught her eye. "Damn, I'd hoped they'd gone a different way…"

Apparently I wasn't the only one who'd noticed Sakura talking to Ino. Fuki approached, flanked by Kasumi and two girls I didn't recognize. Apparently she'd taken over the miniature gang of bullies in the absence of canon Ami.

"Ino-chan, don't tell me you're hanging around with Forehead-chan now." Fuki's sneer was a work of art. One part concern, two parts contempt and four parts 'I'm-better-than-you-in-every-way'. She turned to Sakura, "And you, billboard brow, what's with putting your bangs forward like that? Trying to cover up your forehead? Don't you understand you'll make less money with less advertising space?"

Kasumi &amp; Co. snickered, pointing at Sakura, whose face was quickly coloring to match her hair. It seemed Fuki was a more original bully than canon Ami had been, but she was just as cruel.

My mind raced. I wasn't ready yet to make my move on Ino and Sakura, but I couldn't stand idly by and someone be hurt. With a lurch I realized that was exactly what I was doing to Naruto and Hinata by consigning them to a loneliness I could easily alleviate, until I felt like talking to them. I put that thought away for later investigation. I might not feel ready, but this was probably the best chance I would get to make a good first impression. Everybody likes a hero.

I quickly closed the ten feet between the flowers I'd been pretending to examine and the group of girls. Fuki had chosen to use a field she almost certainly knew nothing about for her put-down. I could exploit that. I opened my mouth to ask her if she thought institutional or product-focused advertising was more effective when I noticed Ino's movements. She had placed one foot behind the other and dropped her weight, in a rough approximation of the academy taijutsu stance. This was bad. Unsanctioned fights between prospective ninja were heavily punished. We were at an age where we had the ability to seriously hurt each other but lacked the control—emotional or physical—to make sure we didn't. I had to do something to head this off.

Ino's original solution to this problem would probably work. I considered the flowers in my hand. One of the thicker-stemmed ones was pretty similarly weighted to the chopsticks I had regularly practiced throwing (themselves practice for senbon). I took careful aim and threw right as Fuki opened her mouth again, presumably to taunt Sakura further.

It flew true and she received a mouthful of cellulose instead of the mouthful of vitriol she'd intended to give.

"Oy, Ino-san, that flower isn't poisonous is it?" I asked. I spoke casually, hoping she would take her cue from my demeanor and back down, instead of taking her cue from my actions and attacking.

She gave me a quick glance before turning to the sputtering bully. She put on a concerned face. "Oh yeah, very poisonous. It can be deadly if not treated right away. It might already be too late."

Tears formed in Fuki's eyes. She scrambled away from us, yelling for Suzume-sensei.

I called after her, "Sorry, Fuki-san! I never was very good at identifying flowers." I turned to her entourage, who still stood there bemusedly. They seemed unsure if they should follow Fuki or exact some sort of revenge. I made a shooing motion with my hands. "Run along now. I'm sure Fuki-san will need your support in this trying time." They shot us a confused, hateful glance and slunk away.

Well, that had ended up being a bit crueler than I had intended, but I still counted it as a success. Suzume came to see us a few seconds later. I explained how Fuki had tripped and fallen and ended up with a mouthful of flowers—terribly embarrassing for a ninja, I could see why she wouldn't want to admit it—and Ino and I had told her that the flower might be poisonous—I guess she'd panicked when she heard that, an unfortunate trait for a ninja to have—and she should probably ask Suzume-sensei as a precaution. Ino and Sakura backed up my story and Suzume was left with our word against theirs. After a brief deliberation she told Fuki to watch where she was walking more carefully and suggested that the seven of us spend the rest of the class far away from each other.

Soon Ino, Sakura and I were left alone. I smiled at them tentatively. "Sorry if that was presumptuous of me. I couldn't stand there and listen to her blather on like that without doing something."

Ino gave me a wide grin. "Are you kidding? That was awesome."

I matched her with a grin of my own. "It wasn't that big a deal. I'm sure you would've done the same in my place."

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_Remember when I said things would happen this chapter? I lied. Bwa. Ha. Ha. Actually though, when I said that I was thinking chapter two would be what will now be chapters two and three._

_I'm not a huge fan of the amount of telling I had to do here, but to show all of these character traits would take tens of thousands of words, which I am not prepared to commit to for a glorified prologue. _

_Don't bother getting attached to these characters, they all die in the next chapter anyway._


	3. Chapter 3: Uchiha

**A/N:**

**On writing software: **My "30 day" free trial of Scrivener has been on its last day for over a year. Longest day of my life.

**On author's notes:** Let me know if you think my author's notes (pre- _or_ post-) are too extensive.

**Disclaimer: **I must not Kishimoto. Kishimoto is the mind-killer.

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**Chapter 3: How I Met Your Brother**

A fist whistled past my ear, missing by the barest of margins. I stepped in, trying to take advantage of the overextension, but my opponent was too fast. He stayed in step with me, keeping the distance between us far enough that I would need to lean in to get a hit off while he, with his longer reach, could reach me with ease.

His assault continued and I was soon the one stepping back, giving ground before his superior speed and strength. He hadn't managed to land a hit yet, but I was stuck entirely on the defensive, so it was only a matter of time. He feinted low and left, and I bit. His right hand came swinging in towards my ribs. I only noticed my mistake at the last second. I threw myself down and backwards as hard as I could, bending back at the waist. I overbalanced but caught myself on my hands, ending up in a yoga bridge pose.

My opponent moved forward, intent on exploiting my vulnerability. I channeled a bit of chakra into my feet, as much as I could manage in the split second I had, and kicked off, lifting one foot upwards while I threw the other backwards to counterbalance. The unorthodox move surprised him and my foot caught him on the side of his chin. It was a glancing blow, but it knocked him off balance and gave me a second to retreat. I turned the kick into a back handspring and ended up a few paces away.

Sasuke touched his chin and nodded, acknowledging the hit. He sank back into his stance and I prepared myself once more. We were practicing in one of the flat, arena-style training areas. The lack of terrain features severely restricted the tricks and misdirections I could use, which were usually the only things that let me make any progress against him. Still, I wouldn't go down without a fight. I brought my hands up and we resumed our dance.

I was on the defensive again almost immediately. I did not have the strength to block most of his attacks directly and evaded many of them by a finger's width. I was using a style I had found in the library a couple months ago. It focused on redirecting blows, flowing around your opponent's movements, drawing them into overextensions and exploiting mistakes. I was still a long, long, _long_ way from mastering it, but it was much more effective when physically outmatched than the academy style had been.

Sasuke came in high and hard and I grimaced, recognizing the start of one of his favorite combinations. A series of blindingly fast attacks, alternating high and low, were sure to follow. I could keep up for a bit but one would eventually slip through my guard and land me on my ass. I was still trying to figure out a counter to it. I knew almost exactly what he was going to do, but the speed at which he could execute the rehearsed strikes made it moot since I couldn't prevent it even with foreknowledge.

Perhaps words could do what actions could not. As he drew his hand back for the next strike I threw my hands up and yelled "No, don't! I'm pregnant!"

He didn't abort the attack, but he was thrown out of his rhythm and it came in much slower than normal. The bewildered look on his face made the bruises I was sure to have tomorrow totally worth it. I ducked under the blow and stepped in, twisting my knees, hips and shoulders to put as much power into my punch as I could. His eyes widened as my fist flew towards his abdomen. He began to step backwards, but there was no way he could move far enough in time. His hands flew together. My hand had just begun to sink into his stomach when he vanished in a puff of smoke. No way unless he shunshined, of course.

He was not yet good enough at shunshin to move more than a step or two, which meant he was still close by. I brought my hand up just in time to redirect a blow aimed at my temple. Its new course missed me by inches, but the follow-up caught me on the shoulder. I spun with the hit, but by the time I'd come back around Sasuke held a practice kunai well within striking range of my throat. We both knew I didn't have the space to dodge so I stepped back and made the seal of reconciliation, a smile spreading on my lips. The end result may have been the same, but at least it had happened differently this time. He scowled and returned the seal.

"That was a dirty trick," he said. "Doesn't even seem that applicable. It only worked here because you're someone I know."

"And you feared for the safety of my unborn child?" My smile widened. "Aw, Sasuke, you do care!"

He reddened. "I didn't want to potentially hurt my sparring partner," he said stiffly. "You being injured would hinder my own training."

"Of course that's it, you big softy. Besides, henging into the loved ones of your opponent is a pretty obvious tactic. You need to learn to disregard everything your opponent says and does that doesn't pertain directly to your mission. They are your enemy; every word out of an intelligent opponent's mouth will be an attack just as deadly as any kunai. There's a reason we use safe words in training. Unless you hear me say 'swordfish', everything else I say is just a distraction you should filter out. Now, when you…"

We discussed the match as he walked me back to my house. I couldn't match him directly in taijutsu, but I and, luckily, he, had realized I could still be a useful training partner. My shortcomings were purely physical ones, which meant I could still provide useful feedback and could notice openings he left or flaws in his style. I still managed to take the occasional bout off him with tricks and stratagems so he also considered it useful practice against a crafty opponent.

His reserved nature was proving to be quite the hindrance. I was slowly working on bringing down his walls. Not long ago the quip I'd made earlier about him caring would've had him leaving the conversation in a huff. That being said, he was still reticent and taciturn towards all non-Uchiha and I was running out of time. I did not know exactly when the Uchiha massacre took place (I don't think it's ever explicitly said in the manga), but I knew it was when Sasuke was seven. His birthday was been two weeks gone, and I still had yet to meet Itachi. I wanted to press for it, but I was afraid of pushing Sasuke away. I would have to do something soon, though, or the chance might pass me by.

We parted ways halfway my house, earlier than we usually did. He said 'Itachi-sama' had asked to see him before dinner this evening, so he had to go now. We agreed to meet tomorrow at training ground twelve, one of the forested training grounds. I had gone maybe a hundred feet when Sasuke came hurrying back. He stopped near me.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Ami, why did you want to be my training partner so badly? I noticed you made efforts to befriend several people from our class, but you tried by far the hardest with me. Why?"

Well, now. Truth be told, I had been expecting a question along these lines for a while. It was a good sign: it meant he was thinking about me as a person and not just a training tool. The second part of his question was even better. I didn't think he'd cared enough to pay attention to what anyone else in our class was doing.

Still, this would need to be handled with care. A misstep here could ruin all my hard work. Time for a mixture of truth, flattery and misdirection.

"Several reasons. Firstly, the obvious. I wanted a training partner so I could train myself. Of all the students in our class, it was pretty obvious you were the most skilled. Training with the most skilled person you can gives you the best opportunity and motivation for improvement. Ergo, I wanted you as my training partner.

"Beyond that, though…I think you've realized I would like to have you as a friend as much as a training partner. Companionship makes good things better and bad things more bearable. I'm not sure I could survive listening to Naruto and Kiba bickering for too much longer without someone to commiserate with. Everyone else of consequence in our class has some serious issues that would prevent me from truly having them as a friend"—a lie, but one I could easily backpedal on later—"or at least a close one. Kiba's aggressiveness. Shika's laziness. Ino and Sakura's superficiality. You have your own fair share of hangups, but you've got the positive qualities to offset them. Besides, I think a lot of them could be surmounted, in time.

"There's more. A less personal reason but arguably a more important one. The…"

I trailed off, trying to think of exactly how to phrase this next part. After perhaps ten seconds of silence, Sasuke prompted "The…?" I shook myself and resumed.

"War is coming. We may live in a rare time of peace, but this is still a ninja village. War is always coming. I fear that after this long without strife Konoha will have grown complacent, while the crueler villages are still being honed by their never-ending conflicts, both internal and external. War _is_ coming. It may take five years, it might take ten, it might even take fifteen, but it will get here eventually. I would have us ready to meet it. Our class is a unique opportunity. We have a concentration of clan heirs and geniuses you see at most once in a generation.

"Sure, most of them—us—don't look like much yet, but give it time. We could become one of the most formidable groups of ninja ever produced by a hidden village. I want to make sure we end up as a powerful group, not a powerful bunch of ninja stuck together. I intend to forge us into an aegis to protect Konoha in its time of need. Hence my befriending of everyone who seems like they might be important. I wasn't sure about Naruto or Sakura"—another lie, but one whose truth he would not believe—"but you need nine to make three teams, so we'll probably end up with one of them. You were both the most promising and most isolated, so I put in the extra effort." I smiled at him. "That reason enough?"

His eyes were a little wide. I considered my words. I had said more than I had intended and could understand if he were somewhat spooked. I had perhaps revealed my hand a little early. Oh well. No helping it now.

"That was…not what I expected," he said eventually. "It's a lot to think about." He was taking this better than I thought he would. "About the coming war…Itachi-kun has always said…"

He kept speaking but I was no longer listening. Alarms were blaring in my head. Itachi-_kun_? For all the times I had heard Sasuke talk about Itachi, I had never once heard him use any honorific other than 'sama' when refering to his brother. Sure, he probably called him Itachi-kun to…I stifled a laugh. Of course. A lot of small discrepancies fell into place. "Sasuke's" coming back to talk to me, despite the chance it would make him late for an appointment with his brother. His lack of confusion when I used words no seven-year-old, no matter how prodigious, would know. The lack of mark on his chin, which should be reddening if not bruising by now.

"…the elders. Anyway, we can discuss this later. I really do need to go now." He looked over at me, noticing my distraction. "You OK?"

"Yeah, fine. Just thinking. We still on for training ground seventeen tomorrow?"

"For sure. See you then." He turned to leave.

"Actually, before you go, could you do me a favor? I had an idea for a chakra training exercise I want you to try."

"I really should be going…" His reluctance was palpable, but I couldn't let him leave just yet.

"It'll only take a second. Just close your eyes and breathe deeply, in and out."

He gave me a reproachful look but complied. In a flash I was behind him, one kunai pressed to his carotid, another pressed to the back of his neck. He would not be jerking backwards out of this hold. I was pretty sure who he was, but there was no point in taking chances. Besides, there aren't a lot of better ways in the ninja world for making a good impression than getting the drop on someone, especially if they vastly outclassed you.

"Release the henge. And no funny business. I see your hands making any movement other than forming a ram seal and you'll get blood all over that nice Uchiha jacket."

He moved slowly, placing one hand on top of the other. There was a puff of smoke and suddenly my kunai were at his chest and back level. He held his hands out to the side in the universal sign of non-aggression. I eased myself backwards, returning my kunai to their holder. He turned and smiled crookedly at me.

"What gave it away?" Itachi asked. "I thought I knew my brother well enough to an almost-perfect henge of him."

"The henge was fine; it was the other small clues that damned you. He said he had to leave to meet you, something he would never be late for, but then he came back to ask me a question that could only have a long, complicated answer? Unlikely. Your easy acceptance of someone else making plans for him, ones that involved socializing no less, was uncharacteristic. I'm pretty sure Sasuke does not know what an aegis is. I landed a hit on him while sparring that should be showing by now. I might not have noticed, but you said Itachi-_kun, _which might be what he calls you around your family, but something he would never say to anyone else_."_

He groaned and slapped his forehead. "Of course. Itachi-san."

"Sama, actually. That boy thinks you…"—I almost said walk on water, which was somewhat less of a compliment to a ninja, but I caught myself at the last second—"…are the Sage of the Six Paths reincarnated. The nail in the coffin was your agreement to meet at training ground seventeen tomorrow, instead of twelve like we'd discussed."

As I talked, I thought furiously. This was exactly the chance I'd been waiting for, but it would require some fast footwork and careful steps.

"Well, you are not at all what I expected," he said, chuckling and rubbing his neck where my kunai had drawn a speck of blood, "but I guess I deserved that. I came to take your measure, and I suppose I've found it."

My mind flashed back to his original question. He'd known about my befriending of the others, which meant…

"Why wait? You must've observed me long ago. Why wait until now to actually approach me?"

"Sasuke told me about this little girl with purple hair who was really eager to train with him"—really eager? I thought I'd played it cooler than that—"so I checked you out. I saw you approaching all the heirs and pegged you as a clanless kunoichi trying to curry favor with the future clan heads. It's pretty common, though few start that young." His eyes flashed. "Should've guessed you were trying to 'forge an aegis to protect Konoha in its time of need'. Obvious in hindsight, really."

He smiled at me and I took that as my cue.

"In the interest of full disclosure, what I said before wasn't the whole story. I would never say this to Sasuke-kun, as he's a little skittish, but it will hopefully put your mind at ease. I was never really able to connect with the children I grew up with. They all seemed so immature and, frankly, simple. Books always seemed so much more interesting than they did, something I'm sure you can sympathize with. Still, I harbored a secret desire for a friend. A best friend. The kind of friend you never have to justify yourself to, since they know you better than you do. The kind of friend who always has your back, no matter what. The kind of friend who would stand with you against the world and dare the world to do its worst.

"Like you have with Shisui-san." For a brief instant his face looked as if I'd slapped him, before he replaced it with the bored, lightly amused mask he usually wore. I would've missed it had I not been watching him so carefully. I spoke on blithely, pretending not to have noticed. "Sasuke talks about you all the time." Technically true, though he had never actually mentioned Shisui to me. "I know most people don't choose their best friends; they just wait and hope it works out for the best. I have always been more deliberate than most people." I smiled back at him. "So you've nothing to worry about. I want what's best for Sasuke almost as much as you do."

His eyes refocused and he spoke again, much gruffer than he had been. "Good. You had better. I find out you're lying or you've done something to hurt him…" His eyes darkened. "…and I'll get blood all over this nice Uchiha jacket."

He turned to leave, but I had one last thing to say. "Same goes to you. I know you love him and would never do anything you didn't have to that would hurt him, but I'm not sure you realize just how much he cares for you. If _you_ ever do anything to hurt him, ever do anything to turn that love into hatred, it would destroy him."

I hadn't been as subtle as I'd hoped to be, but I thought my "coincidentally topical" words for Itachi had gone over fairly well for something composed on the fly. He certainly realized something; I just hoped it was what I'd been pushing him towards.

He stared at me for a second before he nodded and, with a flicker, was gone.

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* * *

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I was walking home from Shikamaru's a few weeks later. We had had a particularly intense game of Shogi and my mind was filled with drops, promotions, gold generals and checks. I was remembering one of the pivotal positions and considering what other moves I could have made when I was grabbed by the throat and slammed into a nearby wall.

"Who are you?" The question was punctuated by another slam against the wall. "How did you know this would happen?" _Thud_. "Why didn't you warn me directly?" _Thud_.

I lifted my head and Itachi's eyes met mine. They were full of madness. Madness, and the Mangekyō Sharingan.

_._

* * *

_._

_When I said 'these characters' in the last post-chapter authors notes, I meant the Uchiha mentioned while describing Sasuke. I thought that was pretty clear. _

_In case you're curious, Itachi didn't spend a couple days following Ami around; he's kind of a busy guy. He used a shadow clone._

_I wanted to show Ami meeting all the rookie nine, but this pre-arc is already running really long, and I don't think I could do the meetings justice with less than 500 words apiece. Maybe I'll save those for a side-story to be written if I ever need a break from the main one._

_Was the foreshadowing with the sparring match too obvious? Too subtle? Just to be sure we're on the same page: the bit at the end of it was supposed to parallel Ami's attempts to divert the massacre. "…I couldn't prevent it even with the foreknowledge. Perhaps words could do what actions could not…The end result may have been the same, but at least it had happened differently this time."_

_This chapter does not mean that Sasuke X Ami will be this fic's pairing. The previous sentence does not mean that Sasuke X Ami will not be this fic's pairing. _

_** yvonna:** This Ami doesn't really think about her appearance, something which may or may not bite her in the ass later, so it's not something I think she would actually mention in her internal monologue. You'll get a description if it ever becomes plot-relevant, i.e. something she has to think about. _


	4. Chapter 4: Mind Games

**A/N:**

**On cliffhangers: **Sorry for ending the last chapter like that. I was going to have a week and a bit where I knew I wouldn't be able to get any writing done and I wanted to get the chapter up. Will I use cliffhangers again? Tune in to the next author's notes to find out!

**On jutsu: **Any jutsu you don't know can be looked up at the Naruto wiki. It's pretty accurate and comprehensive. Any jutsu that differs from canon or is invented will be documented in the story (you will know at least as much about it as Ami does).

**Disclaimer:** What is Kishimoto can never die.

.

* * *

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**Chapter 4: Mind Games**

There was no way I could overcome or even match Itachi along any axis. I was completely at his mercy, but that did not mean I was powerless. So long as I retained the ability to speak I could work this to my advantage, or at least minimize my losses.

I rolled my eyes back in my head and went limp. It would only buy me a few seconds, but I desperately needed time to think.

I needed to figure out what exactly had happened. His questions implied that he had taken my words for the hints they were, rather than wisdom out of the mouth of babes like I'd intended. Likely that's what he'd thought originally, but upon seeing how applicable they were, he now assumed foreknowledge. That was a somewhat tenuous leap of logic that I could perhaps exploit.

His Mangekyō Sharingan made it likely Shisui was dead. I suppose it's possible the death of his parents could have awakened it. Or, I thought with a chill, the death of his brother. He thought I knew what would happen, based on what I'd told him. The two things I'd said were, in essence, to trust Shisui and not to make his brother hate him. Him thinking my words were prophetic probably meant he'd done the former and they'd reconciled, and that he'd been forced to the latter. That, combined with his anger, made it likely that the massacre had happened, though not necessarily in the same way as in canon. But, if he'd gone to Shisui, then how…? Pain intruded into my thoughts. My back throbbed, my neck hurt and I was starting to get a splitting headache.

"Stop feigning unconsciousness." Itachi shook me violently. "I can see you're still awake. Who are you with? Madara? No, that doesn't make sense…Danzo? No…"

I mumbled incoherently as I considered my options.

Telling the truth. Result if successful: possible acquisition of Itachi as an asset. Likely reprisal for not doing more. Possible violence. Chance of success: very low. Hard to believe. In current aggravated state unlikely to wait patiently for proof. Not viable.

Claiming prophetic jutsu. Result if successful: Very probable violent requital. Chance of success: very low. Only known instance toad sage, unreliable. Not viable.

Any answer with foreknowledge likely to result in reprisal.

Pretending patsy/mouthpiece for greater player. Result if successful: anger, but not at me. Itachi takes other as enemy. Chance of success: low. Not enough information to accurately portray. Complexity penalty. Possible but unideal.

Pretending ignorance. Result if successful: undirected anger. Likely leave me out of it. Chance of success: moderate. Original conclusion tenuous. Simplest explanation. Possible interrogation. Best solution under circumstances.

"What…do you…mean? Why…are you doing…this…to me?" My words came out through gritted teeth, my pain and confusion only half-feigned.

"No!" he yelled, "Don't you _dare_ try to play dumb with me! You remind me I can trust Shisui right as we're placed at odds. And then Sasuke…" He trailed off, eyes staring at a point miles behind me.

I almost spoke to try to prompt him to continue, but I held my tongue. For every second he spent reliving past events, the village's defenders would be one second closer to finding us and chasing him off. There were things I wanted to achieve with him that could only be done through talking: I wanted to find out exactly what had happened, I wanted to convince him I was not to blame, I wanted to reaffirm his loyalty to Konoha. Above all else, though, I wanted to live through the next two minutes. I gave myself perhaps even odds. Odds that improved every second he spent not killing me.

His eyes refocused on me with a murderous glint and I decided to change my approach. Maybe getting him talking would calm him down. His thoughts and memories were probably not a very soothing place to dwell at the moment.

"What…happened? Is Sasuke…OK? If you…talk to me, I'll…tell you everything I know about…whatever you're talking about."

"You want to know what happened? I'll show you."

His eyes met mine and the Mangekyō grew until it filled the entirety of my vision.

_Oh, shit_. The Tsukiyomi. I'd been hoping he hadn't figured it out yet. With it he would be able to make seconds seem like days. There went any hope of stalling for time. I would have to actually convince him I knew nothing. Unfortunately, I had no clever ideas for how to do that. All I could do was act like someone who knew nothing and hope he would eventually believe me. That would come later. For now I needed to watch and observe.

I was standing in an open field. Across from me stood Danzō, Shisui on my right. Black bangs obscured my vision on my left side. I was seeing Itachi's memory from his perspective.

I listened as Danzō tried to convince Shisui and Itachi that a peaceful solution to the Uchiha uprising was not possible. Watched as he tried to attack Shisui, to be almost contemptuously subdued with a genjutsu. Saw Danzō use Izanagi and snatch Shisui's right eye in his moment of surprise. Shisui made as if to run away while Danzō placed the stolen eye in his eye socket but paused first, looking back at me—at Itachi—who still stood there, frozen with indecision, torn between his loyalty to his friend and his loyalty to his village. In that moment of hesitation, Danzō was there.

There was no overt sign, no flash of lights or blaring noise, but Shisui stiffened. He stood there, motionless, hands almost touching. Itachi jumped forward and struck at Danzō, but the blow passed straight through him. A look of horror came over Shisui's features and he completed the seal, disappearing without a trace.

"What have you done?" Itachi's voice came from my lips.

"What I had to." Danzō turned to face Itachi. His right eye was closed but was still bleeding copiously. "You should probably get going. I'm not positive Shisui can take on the whole Uchiha clan by himself."

Itachi was gone before Danzō even finished speaking. I won't describe what came next. Though the Uchiha clan were renowned fighters, they were as children before the combined might of their two greatest living geniuses. I noticed Shisui was being profligate with his chakra usage. Several times he used kotoamatsukami on opponents he could probably have taken by hand.

Soon enough the two of them were standing in the Uchiha courtyard. They were the last moving things in the compound. Blood splattered them nearly from head to toe, a souvenir of their night of butchery.

"Please tell me the kotoamatsukami on you has finished." Itachi's voice wavered. "Don't make me do this."

"I was almost hoping one of the family would be able to stop me, to spare you this." Shisui smiled a sad smile. "But I'm glad it will be you. You're someone I could be proud to die to. I've used kotoamatsukami too many times tonight for me to use it again. Take care of my remaining eye, won't you? Destroy it or use it as you see fit, just keep it out the wrong hands."

"It doesn't have to be like this. Surely we can…"

"My orders were to wipe out the Uchiha clan. There—"

The doors to the compound opened and an all-too-familiar face came into sight. Shisui moved but Itachi moved faster. A kunai appeared in his hand and embedded itself in Shisui's stomach. Shisui leaned forward, lips nearly touching Itachi's ear. "Thank you…brother." He keeled over sideways and lay unmoving, blood pooling around him.

Red overcame Itachi's vision as he turned to face Sasuke. The world faded around me and I found myself on a featureless plain, stretching as far as the eye could see. Itachi stood in front of me, staring off at the horizon.

"So died Shunshin no Shisui, ninja of Konoha." He turned to face me. "So now you've seen 'what happened'. Talk."

I could only see one avenue out of this. "Is Sasuke…OK?" I made my voice as small as it could go, the desperate mewling of a little girl in way over her head, worried for her one and only real friend.

"As if you care. We'll see if you're more talkative a few seconds from now."

The background seamlessly transitioned into a dark room. I found myself chained to a table at the wrists and ankles.

I will spare you the details of what followed. My memory of it is none-too-clear anyway. All I remember is a haze of hooks and screws. The smell of searing meat. And, above all else, pain.

I don't want to downplay the horror of what I went through, but in a certain sense, Itachi was surprisingly gentle. I think it was a testament to his pacifist nature that even driven to the edge of reason—or perhaps slightly beyond it—physical pain was all he tried to inflict on me. With the nigh-infinite power of the Tsukiyomi he could have shown me horrors that would scar the mind beyond recovery. My own nightmares about the massacre were more creatively painful, full of Uchiha with empty, bleeding eye sockets, chanting "We died and you did nothing." He, on the other hand, limited himself to pains he could have inflicted in the real world.

I had read that torture was easier to withstand if you picked a mantra and repeated it to yourself over and over. It helped you focus on why you would not break. A prisoner of war might think _I will not betray my country_, a betrayed man might think _I will have my revenge_. Given the illusory nature of my tribulation, the phrase I found myself repeating was _There is no spoon_. It sounds somewhat silly in hindsight, but it did help.

I tried to convince myself that what I was feeling wasn't real, but that proved impossible to do completely. That might have worked against the aforementioned mental horrors, but the truth is that the pain was real, even if its sources weren't.

I spent the first…hour? It was really hard to tell how much time was passing…protesting my innocence. After…some time…had passed, I began yelling every possible explanation I could think of. I told Itachi I was the last of a long line of seers. I told him I was a time traveler. I told him Danzō warned me. I told him I heard it whispered on the wind. I told him I'd received a letter telling me the words to say. Eventually I fell silent. There was no way he would believe anything I'd said, but had I been what I was trying to seem (a little girl caught up in things way over her head) I would probably have tried to tell him whatever I thought he wanted to hear.

The pain made it hard to think, but there were peaks and valleys, and I used the low points to consider my situation. I had to convince him that I knew nothing. Silence would possibly work for that, but that could take a long time and I wasn't sure how much more I could bear. Besides, there was a possibility silence would just seem like I was trying really hard to hide something. Instead, I would try a 'confession' that was something innocent-Ami would come up with, hoping to convince Itachi that it was the truth so he would let her go.

There is a conception in game theory of different levels of deception. If I tell a lie that someone is supposed to take at face value, I am acting as a level one player. If someone sees through my deception, they are a level two player. If my original intention was to have them see through the deception (to have them model me as a level one player) then I am acting as a level three player. If they see through that, they are level four, and so on, ad infinitum.

The quality of the lie has nothing to do with the level of deception. The most solid cover story ever conceived, complete with dozens of references, false documentation and backed up by world-class acting is still a first-level deception. In fact, there tends to be an inverse correlation between quality of lie and level of deception. If you're telling a lie you want to be believed, you make it as complete as possible. Likewise, if you're telling a lie to look like kind of the person who would tell that lie, it's a big problem if you're too convincing and end up being believed. It can't be too flimsy, though. If they don't have to work for it, it won't seem like it was supposed to be believed in the first place.

I had to hope Itachi was modeling me as a first-level player. If he was already modeling me as a third-level player, not only would this deception fail, he would likely be too suspicious of me for anything else to work. I also hoped that the (subjective) days had given him time to calm down somewhat. By now his naturally peaceable nature would hopefully be exerting itself and he would be having qualms about torturing a—to all appearances—innocent, seven-year-old girl.

After some time (days? Weeks? Surely not months) I called out for Itachi. He appeared before I'd finished saying his name. He looked the same as he had outside the genjutsu, down to the pattern of the bloodstains on his jacket. The only difference was his haggard expression. The anger that had marred his features was still there, but now it was shot through with exhaustion.

"Have you decided to talk?" It might have been wishful thinking on my part, but it his voice sounded almost…regretful.

"Yes…Ican't…takeitanymore." I spoke between gasps, the words slurring together.

His visage softened. Suddenly we were sitting in a small room. A short table with a tea set on it sat between us. The room was similar to the Nara receiving room, except for the large fan on the wall, so I took it to be a recreation of one of the rooms of the Uchiha compound.

The lack of pain was almost euphoric. I looked at my arms expecting to see scars, but the skin was unblemished. _There was no spoon_. Itachi sat, waiting patiently for me to get my bearings. I began hesitantly.

"He came to me one night. He called himself Madara. I don't know what he looked like; all I can remember is his eyes."—I took care to pronounce the plural—"He told me…well, you know what he told me to say. He said if I ever told anyone I'd met him that he'd kill…my parents." I tried for tears and failed, settling for a quivering lip. "Now will you let me go? I don't know how you've hidden from Konoha this long, but they'll find us eventually…won't they?" I stuck my chin out and tried to look like I was trying to look confident. "And, and, Sasuke will never forgive you if you don't let me go. That is, I mean, assuming Sasuke is still…" My uncooperative tear ducts finally gave in and moisture ran down my cheeks. I buried my head in my hands, the spitting image of a defeated little girl. It was barely an act. The desperation in my voice was completely unfeigned. I wasn't sure what I would do if he sent me back to that dark room.

After several seconds of crying I looked up to see Itachi staring at me, horror naked on his face. "You really don't know anything, do you? Oh Kami, what have I done?" He reached out towards me and I flinched backwards, falling out of my chair. He shook his head sadly. The sitting room disappeared and I found myself floating.

Genjutsu affects the senses. It cannot force you to feel things except by providing the stimulus that makes you feel those things. That being said, true masters of genjutsu can provide subtleties to your experiences that seem to almost transcend physicality. Itachi was such a master.

I was floating in emptiness, bathed in a gentle white light that somehow managed to combine all the best qualities of a mother's caress, a friend's hug and a lover's casual contact. I couldn't make out any distinct sounds, but nonetheless my ears were full of a soothing lullaby. There was no pain, no discomfort. You never realize it, always having a body like you do, but there are always small discomforts. Itches which need scratching, scratches that hurt. You're always a little hungry or thirsty or stiff or have to go to the washroom. There is never true comfort, except in the tsukiyomi.

Now that I had executed my plan, such as it had been, the inertia that had been carrying me forward dissipated. The mental barriers I had constructed to keep myself from thinking about what I'd been through came tumbling down. My screams rang out into the void, letting out my pain, horror and anger. Tears rolled down my face, dripping off my chin. The tsukiyomi—Itachi—would not let me wallow in despair, however. As the screams left my throat they somehow turned into defiant, triumphant cries, proclaiming my victory over the trials I'd been through, loudly affirming that I would emerge strengthened from the ashes of my pain. The tears on my face did not feel like salty water; they felt like the hands of friends helping me up after a devastating fall.

I floated and I healed. The tsukiyomi (it was easier to think of the tsukiyomi as a separate entity from Itachi, mending where he had only destroyed) helped, making me more comfortable than was physically possible, but the scars of the mind are not so easily restored. My thoughts drifted as my body did. For the first time in years I wasn't making plans. I wasn't preparing for the future or trying to eke out marginal advantages. I was just existing. For the first time in years, images of my old life drifted through my mind.

It struck me then that I wouldn't be going home. I had known that before of course, but I hadn't really believed it. I had been so focused on the future that I had been able to keep myself from thinking about the past. I had almost been treating this like a game, or a particularly convoluted optimization problem. Sure, I had goals that were rooted in caring about the well-being of people in this universe, but I hadn't really become fully emotionally invested. I loved my parents, but it was almost in the way that you love a movie character. You cheer when they succeed, cry when they fail, and really hope everything ends well for them. Two hours later you walk out of the theater and put them out of your mind, only to be revisited in the case of a sequel.

There was still a part of me that expected the credits to start rolling any minute. Still thought I would walk out of the theater and settle back into my old life. I had avoided thinking of all that I had lost, refusing to believe that I would never see my friends and family again. That I would never again go drunkenly bowling with Luke. Never explore another abandoned building with Jessica. Never settle once and for all with Richard whether cavemen or astronauts would win in a fight. Never see my brother and the girl three doors down finally get over themselves and admit their feelings for each other. Never do…so many things.

I drifted as seven years of repressed tears ran down my face. At some point Itachi's voice spoke in my ear, telling me he wasn't sure how much longer he could maintain the genjutsu, but he'd give me as long to recover as he could. He said that Sasuke was fine but thought that Itachi had killed his clan to test himself. He said I could never tell Sasuke the truth, that it would turn Sasuke against the village. He said I should let the hate drive Sasuke, but keep it from consuming him.

He said more things but I stopped listening. I didn't answer him. I knew I should. He was, or would be, one of the most powerful and important people in this world I was now stuck in. This would probably be my last chance for years to influence him or warn him or pump him for information, but I just couldn't bring myself to say anything to him, or even to listen to the rest of what he had to say. My emotions were too raw, the pain far too fresh.

I'm not sure how long my convalescence lasted; I had no way to tell time. Eventually the calm of my surroundings began to permeate my ravaged psyche. I had almost begun to feel like a functional human being again when I was dropped back into my real body.

I found myself sprawled across the hard ground. The aches and pains of corporeality were grating after the soothing numbness of the tsukiyomi. My body felt relatively intact, aside from the bruising from Itachi's original rough questioning. My pants were wet; my bladder must have released while my mind was elsewhere.

Itachi stood on the other side of the street. His left eye was tightly shut and bled freely. It looked as if he were wearing a red mask on half his face. A slouched figure stood between us. An ANBU dog mask sat slanted on his face, framed by a mane of silver-gray hair. He and Itachi were speaking, but my tired mind couldn't make sense of the words. Eventually Itachi left. Dogface took a step after him but glanced back at me and let him go.

Dogface walked over to me and bent down. He asked me something. I shook my head. As he gently picked me up, my sluggish mind made the connection between the mask and the hair. _Kakashi. _

He pressed one finger against my temple and said the first word I'd understood since reentering the real world.

"_Sleep"_

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I awoke in the hospital. I was examined by several medic-nin, all of whom declared me physically fine. A Yamanaka mind-healer was brought in, but I refused to let him into my head. There were ways to get into the mind of an unwilling victim, but the trauma that entailed made it likely that would do more harm than good.

I was aware of what went on around me, but I couldn't make myself react. Everything reminded me of my time under the knife, threw me back into that state of helplessness and pain. Every face I saw was Itachi's, mouth set in a grim line. Every bit of speech I heard was him asking me what I knew. Everything that touched me was an instrument of torture. Every smell was the smell of burnt flesh. Every taste was the taste of my own blood. Removed from the soothing senselessness of the tsukiyomi, I could not handle the world around me.

My mind nearly broke again, to return to the catatonic bliss in which I'd spent the first year of this life, but I held on. When I had dwelt on the things I'd lost with my resurrection I had inevitably also thought of what I'd gained in return. My parents. Sasuke. Shikamaru. Ino. The other children. Chakra. Purpose. I had too much anchoring me to this world to run lightly from it now. The time I'd spent recovering in the tsukiyomi had helped, giving me some distance from the torture. I'm not sure I would've ever recovered if I'd been thrust back into the harshness of reality right away.

Over the course of the next few days I slowly regained my ability to interact with the world. My speech was halting and my actions unsure, but the nurses assured me that that would come back in time. My parents were ecstatic.

I had an interview with the Hokage. I played the innocent, victimized child and spent half the time talking about Sasuke. He seemed to accept my story and draw my intended conclusion: that I'd been targeted for being Sasuke's friend.

A week after my admittance, I was allowed to have non-familial visitors. They came in ones and twos. Chouji and Shikamaru came together. The former brought several packaged meals, to deliver me from the evils of hospital food. The latter came with a Shogi board. He let me win. Hinata sent me an incredibly formal letter of well-wishing, the effect of which was spoiled by her hastily scrawled note at the bottom, telling me to hurry up and recover, as 'Naruto-kun' seemed lonely without me. The aforementioned fox-boy tried to bring me a bowl of ramen, but he ended up eating most of it on the way. I assured him that it was OK, and that I would get more enjoyment from seeing him enjoy it than I would from eating it myself. Sakura and Ino visited together. Sakura tried to ask about the incident, but Ino seemed to know better and steered the conversation towards lighter topics.

Two weeks after I'd been admitted, the day before I was due to be discharged, Sasuke came to see me. He entered my room quietly and stood silently at the foot of my bed. He looked like he belonged in the hospital more than I did. His skin was even paler than usual. His eyes were sunken and sat atop large, dark bags. I tried to say something, but the words died in my throat. He looked so much like Itachi I had to look away.

"I'm going to kill him." Sasuke's voice was cold and hard. There was no need to say who 'him' referred to. The words seemed to hang between us for a second before Sasuke began to walk towards the door. I couldn't let him leave like this. If he left now he would be heading down the road of the lone avenger, a road that would inevitably lead to open conflict with Konoha. I forced words out.

"No." He turned back at the sound of my voice. "When we're ready, we'll kill him together." I had intended the words as a lie that would keep Sasuke from heading down his road alone, but they rang with truth as I spoke them. I wasn't sure I would be able to _stop_ myself from trying to kill Itachi when next I saw him, consequences be damned.

Sasuke regarded me silently for a moment before he nodded sharply and left, closing the door behind him.

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_._

_I got tired of SI, so I thought I'd try tackling some other fanfiction sub-genres. Hurt/Comfort? Took about 20 (in-universe(non-subjective)) seconds. Easy.  
_

_The character's belief's do not necessarily reflect my own. Ami choosing to forgive Itachi does not mean I condone the torture of small children. Ami choosing to not forgive Itachi does not mean I disregard the mitigating effects of stresses and circumstance upon actions. You should only think I actually think something if I personally tell you I believe it, and confirm—twice—that I am not joking. _

_Also, though this should go without saying, I feel I should remind you all that Ami is not an omniscient narrator. Things she says that aren't direct observations or statements about herself, especially when she guesses at the motivations or explanations for others' actions, should not necessarily be believed whole-heartedly._


	5. Chapter 5: Seals

**A/N:**

**On reviews: **I still want 'em, you still got 'em. Every time I get a review an angel gets its wings.

**Disclaimer: **Hell hath no fury like Kishimoto scorned.

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**Chapter 5: Seal Hunting Season**

The rest of my years at the academy passed relatively uneventfully.

My time was split between classes, training, and social networking. I had begun the academy leagues ahead of almost everyone in my class in pretty much every ninja skill, but they caught up quickly. My years of self-training had given me a head start, but their natural aptitude meant that they improved much faster than I did. I stayed ahead of the non-clan shinobi for the most part, but by the time I was eight it had become clear to me I would soon fall far behind everyone else (everyone who mattered). Where I had once stood at the head, I was on the brink of being merely the first wave of a sea of mediocrity.

That simply would not do.

Until that point I had been focusing mostly on improving my general skills, the ones that were taught at the academy. This was necessary, both because the basics were important to success, and because I would need to be the top-rated kunoichi in my class to be placed with Sasuke and Naruto. The top kunoichi and shinobi from each class were almost always placed on a team with the worst.

I had been planning on remaining a generalist until I graduated, for two reasons. Firstly, my intelligence would likely be one of my best assets in a fight. For intelligence to be useful, you need a number of tactical options, the more varied the better. Secondly, once I became a genin I would have much better access to training materials. I would be allowed to use the genin section of the ninja library, and I would be able to solicit my jōnin for lessons.

That plan had to change. As it stood, it was looking like I would be noticeably weaker than canon Sakura upon graduation. A few months would not be enough to get me up to snuff for Wave, if Wave ended up happening, or for the Suna-Oto invasion, which would almost certainly still happen in some form or other.

I spent a few months investigating my options. Pretty much all ninjutsu was out because of my tiny chakra reserves. An exceptionally powerful affinity was my only hope there, quickly dashed after a brief date with some chakra paper that refused to react, no matter how much chakra I pumped into it. Likewise, taijutsu and kenjutsu were not really options because of my poor strength and mediocre speed.

Genjutsu was a possibility. I had the imagination and—just barely—the chakra control for it. Unfortunately, there was a large portion of the ninja population against whom genjutsu was completely useless. Anyone with a dōjutsu, along with people who had trained themselves to be immune, like Deidara. Besides, a large portion of my fights would—hopefully—be spent alongside Kakashi and/or Sasuke, both of whom could use genjutsu much more effectively than I could because of their Sharingan. I would learn the basics, but specializing in it did not seem like a clever idea.

I tried to learn some basic medical jutsu, but my chakra control proved insufficient. My control was pretty good for direct manipulations, the result of endless hours of leaf sticking and similar exercises, but I could not get the hang of isolating Yin chakra. I would probably be able to add some simple healing jutsu to my repertoire, but there was no way I could be anything but a second-rate medic-nin. Only the very best medic-nin could fight on the front-lines, something I would really like to be able to do.

I had nearly resigned myself to being a non-combatant when I discovered fūinjutsu.

I had known about sealing before, of course. Seals played an important part in the manga, and I saw them around Konoha every so often. Still, how sealing worked was never really explained by Kishimoto. I had looked into it here and was disheartened by what I found. Seals were, according to the books I read, most akin to pieces of art. Much like jutsu, no one was quite sure exactly how seals worked.

Actually, for this explanation to make any sense, I should probably first explain where jutsu come from.

Researching the invention of jutsu was one of the first things I did when given access to the library. Most of the books on the theory of jutsu were available to everyone; it was only the practical books that were restricted. I suppose they thought just knowing the theory would not be dangerous for academy students. Or maybe they thought no academy student would bother to read the immense, abstruse tomes. Either way, I thought the invention process very important to know. Had it been exploitable, it would have been a very easy route to power. My plans for making an E-ranked insta-kill jutsu did not last long, however.

Most elemental jutsu are very straight-forward. Want a fireball? Create some fire-natured chakra and throw it at whatever needs burning. Want a wall of earth? Spread some earth-natured chakra and solidify it. Want a hat made of air? No, you don't. Why would anyone ever want that?

On the other hand, many jutsu have effects that are incredibly abstracted from how the chakra to perform them is actually manipulated. What is it about a certain configuration of chakra that makes you switch places with another object? Or imbues a shadow clone with consciousness?

There had to be underlying rules. I had been placed in a world where, terminology excepted, magic was real. That didn't drastically change who I was. I was a scientist, a rationalist, a child of the information age. Causality was the cornerstone of my worldview, predictable outcomes the windows. I always cringed when I used to read fantasy novels full of scientists that declared magic impossible or unscientific. Science is not a body of knowledge, but an approach. If you find something that breaks your known laws, it doesn't mean that thing is unscientific, or that science is wrong. It means that _that law_ is wrong. Or, more commonly, that that law is imprecise and does not apply at this scale/to this case. You can't point at a portion of reality and call it unscientific unless you were saying that it operated arbitrarily, without conformity to a set of laws. I would not do that. Everything I'd ever encountered was governed by laws. Regardless, if those laws existed, they were not known to the ninja world at large.

This raised the question of how new jutsu were created/discovered. The answer was not particularly satisfying. After using a jutsu for a long time and achieving a high degree of proficiency with it, ninja tended to develop an intuition about its workings. That intuition, along with a healthy dose of trial and error, let ninja develop enhancements or modifications of the jutsu. That was why most jutsu tended to be part of a family of techniques, all centered around a basic one. Most ninja never reach the point where they can develop jutsu, and use only those that they are taught.

No one knows where the first jutsu came from. The written history of the ninja world is very sparse, despite it being at most a thousand years old. All of the recently invented jutsu, like the Rasengan and Chidori, were relatively straightforward elemental manipulations. Straightforward in concept, at least, if not in execution.

To learn a new jutsu was a simple matter of learning the hand-signs and chakra manipulations. It takes practice to be able to do quickly precisely, and to learn the intricacies, but that was essentially it.

Which brings us back to sealing. The invention of new seals was fairly similar to the invention of new jutsu, except that the intuition it entailed was rarer but more broadly applicable. Someone who had studied barrier seals might be able to develop a new type of barrier that was only tangentially related to the seals they had already learned.

I should perhaps be more careful with my speech. Using words like studied and learned makes it seem much more academic and deliberate than it is. Intuition is probably the best word to keep in mind. I have never experienced it myself, but I have heard it likened to the composition of music. There are some basic rules you can learn and follow deliberately, but for the most part you just have to go with what feels right. Some people can do it and others—no matter how talented they may be as performers—cannot.

Seals were also notoriously hard to learn for those who did not invent them. They needed to be modified based on the specific circumstances of their use, something that required great familiarity. On top of that, one had to hold the form and function of the seal in one's mind when activating it. There were seals that avoided that limitation, such as Orochimaru's cursed seals and the explosive tags used by ninja everywhere, but those had trade-offs in other areas. The former was hooked directly into the subject's chakra system, placed great strain upon the body, and drew massive amounts of chakra to use. The latter was severely constrained in its power and versatility. Usually the only ones who could use a given seal were the creator's direct apprentices, and even then it usually required years of working together, until they understood not only the seal but also the mind of its progenitor.

All this made it rather unlikely that I would be learning fūinjutsu, especially with the lack of seal masters in Konoha. Jiraiya was the only one affiliated with the village of leaves, but he was nowhere to be found and probably wouldn't be for years.

A few weeks after writing off fūinjutsu, I was reading a book on inventions. I was trying to get a handle on the tech level of this world, which did not seem to progress logically. This particular book dealt with seals that had been used to perform functions now fulfilled by technology. The book itself was not particularly interesting. It had been written by a civilian inventor and was full of derision for these primitives who "didn't even know gears worked!" I half-expected the author to proclaim that their sad devotion to that ancient ninja religion had not helped them conjure up the stolen data tapes.

Despite the book's shortcomings, its appendices were detailed and well-documented. Hundreds of pages of diagrams, showing the devices and the seals that made them function. The seals had a certain beauty to them, but for the most part it was the beauty of abstract art. Aside from the kanji that sat at their hearts, the lines that comprised the seals seemed completely arbitrary to me. At first.

As I flipped through the book, a small clumping of lines started to jump out at me. It was in a different place in each seal, and I would almost certainly not have noticed were if not for its resemblance to the crest of my high school sports team. It differed a fair bit from seal to seal, but all were variations on the same theme. They differed, but were definitely related, and they showed up in every seal.

I sometimes wonder what would have happened were it not for that coincidental resemblance that tipped me off. Without it, I would probably have never learned sealing, and all this might have been avoided. At the time, I was overjoyed.

That recurring element raised the possibility that seals were constructed with a sort of pictographic language. That had been one of my original hypotheses for their working, but I had dismissed it after reading about the intuition and artistry that were the backbone of their creation. Now, though…What if it were a pictographic language, just one that seal masters spoke instinctively rather than consciously? Many children (and some adults) could carry on perfectly reasoned, understandable conversations, even if they had no idea what nouns or clauses or tenses were.

That was a somewhat tenuous jump from noticing the similarities of a few squiggly lines, but if felt right. It made everything fit. Still, it would need further investigation. I spent the next several months cross-referencing the similarities for every seal I could find, noting which properties correlated with each set of lines. It was laborious work, but of a kind that I loved. This problem solving, the thrill of a picture slowly coming into focus, the eureka moments that accompanied each discovery of a piece of the puzzle, was something that I had sorely missed since my PHD days.

It quickly became clear (quickly on the scale of research, so a couple months in) that sealing _was_ a pictographic language. To be specific, it was a polysynthetic, agglutinative, incorporative language. For all you non-linguists, that means that, respectively, each word (seal, in this case) was composed of many morphemes (pieces of language that have independent meaning), each affix (bit added onto the front or end of a word) had one meaning, and that certain word categories could be stuck together, like verbs and their objects. It's not terribly important that you understand the technical details. Suffice to say that it was a language I was slowly beginning to understand.

The kanji at the center of each seal described its primary function. The other lines provided specifics, and, for more complicated seals, linked secondary kanji to the main one. Looking at an explosive tag, one of the simplest seals, the kanji for explode was in the center. Around it were symbols that affected the size of the explosion, the heat, whether the explosion was directed away from the seal or towards the object it sat on, the trigger mechanism, etc…

Drastic changes to the explosion could be accomplished by linking it to other kanji. Linking it to lightning, depending on how it was done, might make lightning shoot out from the seal instead of fire. Linking it to speed might make the explosion occur faster. Or, it might make everyone near the seal when it went off move quickly for a few seconds. Such was the theory I developed, at least. I did not have many linked seals to study, so I was fairly shaky on how they actually interacted.

I'd idly considered if this was how sealing worked in canon, but after thinking about it I decided that was an almost nonsensical question. Kishimoto probably hadn't bothered to figure out how fūinjutsu would work and just used it however the story needed.

I tried applying what I'd learned to storage seals and was fairly successful. I almost started with exploding tags as they were simpler, but caution won out in the end. While all seals could be deadly if you messed them up significantly, explosive tags could kill you even if you got everything right but made a miscalculation on the trigger or size. I was able to make storage seals with varying capacities, and others that spit out their contents after a certain time had elapsed. That had some interesting possible applications.

By the time I was ten I was comfortable with pretty much every iteration of storage seals and explosive tags. I began to practice some of the more complicated basic seals, like knockout tags and chakra-sapping seals. At the same time, I thought I was ready to try creating a seal of my own. It was not hard to pick what I needed. I had spent more and more time devoted to my studies of sealing, and my other skills, already slipping relative to the other children, had fallen further and further behind. I had slid down the taijutsu ratings until I now sat only half a dozen spots above the bottom.

As it stood, I was in danger of losing my place as the top kunoichi of my class, something that I could not allow.

My academic record was excellent. Flawless, to be specific. That would not be enough though, as physical skills, of which taijutsu was considered the most important, comprised a large portion of our marks. The answer was clear: I needed to make a seal that would help me in fisticuffs. Even leaving aside the issue of assuring team assignments, as it stood I was screwed the minute an enemy got close. I had eventual plans for a technique that would eliminate that problem, but it would likely take me years to learn.

I looked through my big book of seals, into which I had copied every seal I had come across in the past two years. While I now understood many aspects of sealing, I still could not invent seals out of whole cloth. I understood the rules of the language, but that did not mean I knew all the possible words. I could probably create some seals with trial and error, by sticking together some kanji I knew with some affixes I had figured out, but the chances of me actually achieving the desired effect were pretty low. Besides, seal experimentation was notoriously dangerous, even for relatively small variations on a known seal. Placing random effects together would likely have fatally disastrous results.

My eyes caught on one of the seals taken from the book that had started all this. Based around the kanji for speed linked to the kanji for storage, it had been used to create something that approximated the function of a crossbow. A crank was turned against resistance, despite it not being attached to anything. Once it had been cranked, the device could be used to speed up a projectile. The device had not been particularly useful, as the only projectiles it could shoot were ones with parts of the seal inscribed into them, which was a fairly hard thing to accomplish using medieval technology. Additionally the projectiles, while flying much faster than normal, didn't actually hit any harder. Still, the basic idea of storing speed for later usage was one I could work with.

I developed a set of bands, two of which would go on my wrists, two on my ankles, and one on my forehead. The bands on my limbs would provide resistance, acting like training weights, something I had been meaning to get anyway. As I went about my day they would store up speed, which they could then feed to the band on my forehead, speeding up my whole body. That was the theory, at least. My original idea plan had been simpler, with the bands giving their speed right back where they got it from, but when I had tested that on a stick the results had been…messy. The end of the stick with the band on it had been sped up, but the rest of it had not. The internal stresses had shattered it into kindling.

So I added in the forehead band, which would—in theory—spread the speed around the entire affected object, i.e. my body. It pained me to think about the thing that was being stored as speed rather than force, which would have made far more physical sense, but from the descriptions it seemed like the objects were actually being sped up relative to the rest of the world, not just pushed. When a timed explosive seal had been applied to the projectile, it had gone off much earlier than the timer dictated.

The first time I tested Speed Seal 2.0, the forehead band exploded. Luckily, or rather, conscientiously, I had conducted the test on a bundle of sticks from behind the cover of a nearby ditch. I went over my seals and found a small transcription error in one. I cursed the lack of a compiler, which would have caught that error were this a programming language, and constructed a new band.

The second time I tested it, it exploded again. This time every band exploded. I went back to the drawing board. I did some research in the library and found something called seal instability. Apparently seals of certain shapes when used together became unbalanced and had a tendency to react violently. I rethought, redrew, and rebalanced.

The third test on inanimate objects went smoothly, so I proceeded to the animal testing phase. This was one of the largest modifications I'd had to make to the original seal, allowing it to affect living things, but also a part I was pretty sure of. The parts of a seal that dealt with what it affected had been one of my first areas of focus.

I sneaked out to the butcher shop one night. I knew she kept several pigs caged behind the shop, so her meat would always be as fresh as possible. I had originally planned to go to one of the farms near Konoha, where there were far fewer ninja around who could catch me, but I decided against it. The logistical complications of going somewhere outside the sensing barrier, combined with the fact that if the test ended up being fatal I would prefer it happen to an animal that was going to die anyway, made this a more sensible option. Besides, if I were caught I could always pretend to be committing some juvenile prank involving pigs.

The test proceeded flawlessly. The pig seemed somewhat distressed by the fact that it spent a split second moving many times its normal speed, but the diagnostic jutsu I used on it afterward (the only medical jutsu I'd really been able to master) didn't show any obvious health problems.

Human trials were next. I wished I could use shadow clones, but even if I had access to the forbidden scroll, the chakra requirements were way out of my reach. I considered trying to enlist the aid of someone who could make shadow clones for me to use as test subjects, but I didn't think that would end well. The regulations against seal experimentation were very strict. Besides, most of the people who could use the Kage Bunshin were high-level jōnin, whose time was very valuable. I doubted they would be particularly accommodating for a clanless academy student.

Instead, I enlisted one of the clan-having (Clanned? Clanful?) academy students. Shikamaru was smart enough that he would probably react intelligently to any problems that arose. At the same time, he lacked the inquisitiveness to try to figure out exactly what I was doing. Even if he did, his sense of personal loyalty combined with his aversion for hassle meant he was unlikely to tell anyone.

"So all you need to do is stand over there and, I don't know, watch the clouds or something. Come check on me in a minute or two or if you, uh, hear anything unusual."

"What will you be doing?" he asked.

"Oh, you know. Boring girl things. Makeup and dresses and and the like. Nothing you'd be interested in." My lack of bags made this excuse laughably transparent, but he would probably see through any story I made up anyway so really, why bother?

"That would explain your…interesting…outfit." He grinned mischievously and very deliberately ran his eyes up and down my body. I felt my cheeks flush. I knew he only did it to annoy me, there was no way he'd even hit puberty yet, but it bothered me anyway. Ever since I'd let slip that I was discomfited by the communal baths, Konoha's main hygiene mechanism, he'd gone out of his way to heckle me about my self-consciousness. I knew it was somewhat silly to have body image issues as a relatively pretty, incredibly fit eleven-year-old. Still, a lifetime of media influence and several years of bullying had left me with some hangups that were hard to get over, even if they no longer really applied to the body I wore.

Today I had ditched my customary loose t-shirt and baggy shorts for a skin-tight bodysuit that went down to my knees and elbows. On the scale of outlandish clothing worn by ninja it was barely noteworthy, but it was a big difference from my usual aesthetic. From what I understood of how I'd put together the seal, it would speed up the entire object it was applied to. I didn't think that would affect clothing. I wasn't positive, but from what I'd seen of sealing so far, "one object" would mean one fully contiguous piece of matter. Loose clothing would not count, but a skintight suit should. In theory.

I scowled at Shikamaru but he was, as ever, unfazed. "Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?"

"Nope. Will your…_boring girl things_…be particularly dangerous?"

"Of course not. You think I'm going to hurt myself doing my makeup? Geez, boys really are clueless." I tried to maintain my stern facade, but a smile slipped out anyway.

"So it's just coincidence you brought us to the training field nearest the hospital?"

"I did? How strange." It was his turn to scowl at me. I let my joking demeanor fade. "Really, Shika, I should be fine."

"How reassuring. I won't try to stop you; I know how hard it is to divert you from something you're set on. Just…be careful, won't you? Hospital trips are so very troublesome."

I nodded and walked over to the other side of the field. I took a few seconds to gather my thought and center myself. I pictured the seal in my mind, visualized the flows of chakra, and, with a thought, activated it.

The world froze around me. Noises became distorted. I felt like I moved at normal speed, but everything else looked as if it moved through molasses. I could count the wingbeats of a bee that was flying past my face.

Sound came back in a rush and the bee sped away. The speedup had lasted maybe half a second, for me. The bee had beat its wings three times, and honeybees usually beat their wings a little over two hundred times a second, so the rest of the world had probably passed somewhere around a sixtieth of a second.

My diagnostic jutsu found nothing out of place. I ran back to Shikamaru with a smile plastered across my face.

"Hahahaha, it worked! Finally." I threw my arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug, giddy with euphoria. He stood there and took it like a log. After couple seconds he spoke.

"Can you tell me now what you were really doing? Or at least let go of me? Most of my life-plans, vague as the are, involve me being able to breathe."

I stepped back from him. "Here, I'll show you. High five!"

He raised his hand tolerantly. I activated the seal, stepped in and high-fived him, breaking my hand in the process.

After we'd visited the hospital and I'd gotten my "sparring injury" taken care of, I explained my sealing exploits to Shikamaru. He had blithely gone along with my story of a training accident. If he were going to tattle about me experimenting, that would have probably been the time to do it. My kinder side thought he deserved an explanation. My more manipulative side thought that a show of trust now would bind him more tightly to me, making it less likely that he would later speak up.

"Hmmm, I wonder if moving thirty times normal speed makes things hit you thirty times harder? Maybe if you—"

"That's all you have to say? No rebuke about dangerous testing?"

"Nah, way too troublesome. You're OK aren't you? Mostly? Now, when…"

We discussed how to safely assess the limits of the seal. Shika declared the whole thing too much trouble for him to do himself, but agreed to be nearby and watch for danger while I ran the tests. I soon found out his theory was correct: everything affected me much more while it was active. A soft push could send me flying, and a light tap would give me bruises. The effect I had on things was likewise diminished; with it active I had difficulty rolling a five-pound ball. That limited its effectiveness somewhat, but it would still be useful for dodging and setting up strikes, so long as I deactivated it in time.

I found that wearing normal clothing greatly decreased the speed I achieved, and trying to carry anything made it fail altogether. Whether or not I wore the bodysuit didn't seem to make a difference (now there was a test that I did _not_ get Shika's help with).

I bought a large cloak and removed the clasp. I held it together with a small, constant chakra stream. When I activated the seal, the cloak hung in the air around me. When I stopped the chakra stream there was nothing holding it to me and I was free to move. Pushing away the corners of the cloak, where it hung around my neck, slowed me slightly but not enough to be a hindrance. The cloak itself was an excellent carrier for seals, and I covered it with storage seals and strengthening seals. I also incorporated some chakra draining seals and knockout tags, in case I was ever able to wrap the cloak around my opponent.

By the time I was done testing the speed seal (which really needed a snappier name) and incorporating it into my fighting style, it was almost time for graduation. I would soon be thrust into a dangerous world full of incredibly powerful people.

I did not feel ready. I doubted I ever would.

I had my seals, my mind, and my foreknowledge. It didn't seem like nearly enough, but it would have to do. The temptation to run away and let someone else deal with all this was still there, but it had lessened every year. I was committed now. This was my life.

The wolves would soon be at the door, and I was determined that when they arrived they would find a house made of bricks, not straw.

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_The world. It builds. I had intended to talk about relationships (in the non-amorous sense) this chapter, but the jutsu explanation stretched a lot longer than I expected, so that's been pushed to next chapter._

_My spellchecker's dictionary somehow has agglutinative in it, but not polysynthetic._

_The story actually starts next chapter! I'm so excited. Now, I know what you're all wondering: "Has it got any sports in it?" Just you wait. It has fencing. Fighting. Torture. Poison. True love. Hate. Revenge. Giants. Hunters. Bad men. Good men. Beautifulest ladies. Snakes. Spiders. Beasts of all natures and descriptions. Pain. Death. Brave men. Coward men. Strongest men. Chases. Escapes. Lies. Truths. Passion. Miracles. Also, baseball._


	6. Chapter 6: Test

**A/N:**

**On The Next Chapter: **I'm going to have a while where I won't be able to write much, so the next chapter might not come for a couple weeks.

**Disclaimer: **Not all that glitters is Kishimoto.

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**Chapter 6: **This Is Not a Test

After so many years of preparation, the graduation test had finally arrived.

The written portion was trivial. It was a combination of history and geography, which I had studied extensively, along with basic tactics, the majority of which seemed like common sense.

I mused on the effects of genetics as we did the throwing test. I must have spent well over a thousand hours of practice on throwing weapons over the years. I can say with confidence that my aim was better than that of any twelve-year-old on Earth, by a wide margin. I could hit an unmoving target the size of my fist at thirty meters with a kunai, nine times out of ten.

I barely passed the test. While I could hit a fist, many of my peers could hit a bullseye. It seemed a tad unfair. I knew that none of them (with the possible exception of Sasuke) had trained as hard as I had, and even he had started years after me. Still, this was the premier class. We were the twenty-seven kids deemed most likely to be able to succeed on the jōnin track (well, twenty-six and Naruto, who was deemed most likely to have an incredibly powerful demon in his stomach). It was not that surprising that they were capable of superhuman feats, even young and relatively untrained.

I had wondered for years why my body was so inferior to theirs. Canon Ami had made it into the class on her own merits, so why was I so much worse, even after all I'd put myself through? My working hypothesis had been that my displaced psyche did not mesh with my new body in some way. Chakra was thought to come, at least partially, from the soul (I had never believed in souls before, but there did seem to be hard evidence for their existence in the Narutoverse, so I was reserving judgment until I could investigate further). If my soul did not mesh properly with this body, that might explain my pitiful chakra reserves and poor motor control (relative to my class-mates; I was fairly average for a shinobi of my age in most respects).

A much simpler explanation had revealed itself to me at a family get-together. There, I met Takumi Okada, head of Academy Admissions, and my maternal uncle. I vaguely remembered meeting him at my entrance exam, but that had been our first encounter. Mom had become estranged from her family shortly after my birth. She never spoke about it, but I suspected my difficulties as an infant had been at the center of it. The shinobi world was not kind to invalids or the simple. Years later, she had finally been able to forgive them (and they her; when it comes to family quarrels no one is ever left entirely unblamed), so I had finally met my uncle for real.

He was a kind man who seemed to love children desperately, despite his own conspicuous lack. I could easily see a world where his niece, untroubled by the difficulties I'd had, had become like a daughter to him. Could imagine how, when it came time for her to test for the academy, he had overlooked her obvious shortcomings, seeing not the child she was, but the child he wished her to be. Could hear her parents being so happy for her, pushing her to succeed and make friends. Could picture how her joy at being told she was special had turned to bitterness when she realized she wasn't. Could envision her turning her group of friends into a gang of bullies, to pull down her peers outside the classroom, where they towered above her.

It was a sad story, and one that I was glad had not been retold. My original hypothesis was still possible, but this one seemed much more likely. No matter the reason, it was something I could work around. I had only marginally passed the ranged portion of the test and I would need to excel at the rest to keep my spot at the top.

Taijutsu was next. I dodged and feinted against my larger and stronger opponent, careful to show off my textbook-perfect academy style. The chunin I was matched against was clearly holding back at first, giving me a chance to display my abilities. He ramped up the intensity as we fought until I was barely keeping up, only saved by the judicious use of my speed seal. He stepped in and sent a punch towards my midsection that nearly caught me anyway.

I slid past his arm as the world slowed, his knuckles lightly brushing my hip. The multiplied force of the blow threw me into a spin. If I slowed down while still off-balance like this I was done for sure. As I spun, I channeled a bit of chakra into my foot and threw myself into a forward flip. As I did so, I released the small stream of chakra I had been maintaining that stuck a bit of paper to my left forearm.

Time returned to normal and found me spinning upside down, head a few inches above my opponent's shoulder. My fingers closed around the explosive tag I'd released and I slapped it onto the shoulder of the chunin as I passed, sending a bit of chakra into it to stick it to his uniform. I landed and scrambled away, hands forming the snake seal. The chunin's eyes widened as he noticed the tag and he froze, hands open and spread wide in the universal sign of non-aggression.

I felt a flush of satisfaction as I was declared the winner. There was no way I could have won if he had been fighting seriously, or if he hadn't underestimated me, but still. It was quite rare for prospective genin to win their spars. Sasuke might, depending on who he was matched against, but no one else in our class had a hope in hell. The bonus from this would go a long way towards offsetting my previous taijutsu marks, which had been lackluster until very recently.

The use of an explosive tag skirted the edge of legality, but I had read the regulations for the test very carefully. While weapons were explicitly banned, all other "ninja tools" were allowed, which was technically how seals were classed, regardless of their offensive potential.

The jutsu test was all that remained. I was not at all worried about it, with good reason. I had practiced the academy jutsu endlessly. They were incredibly useful, though not as much as I had originally hoped. The jutsu as described and occasionally shown in the manga were, for lack of a better word, incredibly broken. They were unbelievably versatile and the only reason they weren't used to decide every fight in the manga was Kishimoto's lack of imagination (and, I suppose, that that would've made for a fairly boring manga). Unfortunately, in the version of the Narutoverse I lived in they had large limitations.

Canon Kawirimi let you instantly switch places with any other object. I had hoped to be able to use it to swap places with my enemies and leave them on piles of explosive tags. Or, if that proved impossible, to swap places with a log covered in piles of explosive tags when my enemies got close to me. Or to swap in my enemies right before an attack hit me, so they would be hit instead. Or to swap in my allies right as they completed attacks, to hit unsuspecting opponents. Or to jump back and forth between objects, avoiding every possible attack. The possibilities were vast. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

When I learned the Kawirimi in the Academy, it had three main drawbacks. The first was that the swap had to be with something of approximately your mass. The larger the difference, the more chakra it took, and the longer it took. The second was that nothing with chakra could be swapped. No ninja, no seals, no clones. The third was how long it took. Some ninja theorized that the delay was only because of the difference in mass and that if you could find something of exactly the same mass as you it would be instantaneous. The delay could be reduced with practice, but for most genin swapping with an object more than a few pounds away from their weight, it would be faster to run the distance.

Canon Bunshin created visually identical copies of you that couldn't physically interact with the world, beyond reflecting light. It had not been changed that much. The only difference I'd noticed was that whereas in canon it took a few hits, or one solid hit, to get rid of it, it could now be dispelled by the slightest contact. That invalidated a few of my ideas, like having them wrap themselves around my opponent's eyes to block their vision. I still had ideas, but they were somewhat more constrained.

Which brings us to the Henge. Canon Henge let you transform into anything, living or inanimate. The lack of abuse of the Henge was one of the gravest sins of Naruto's characters. The things they could have done with it… Throwing an ally Henged as a kunai or shuriken was done a few times in the manga, but it should have been one of the main strategies of every team. No ninja should have ever been caught on an infiltration mission, when they could Henge into a pebble, or a piece of sand, or a drift seed, or any number of small things. No ninja should have been hit by a technique when they could just Henge into a blade of grass to dodge it. Or Henge into a lighter version of themselves to move faster. No ninja should have ever walked anywhere when they could Henge into a bird and fly. Or do…so very, very many things. The possibilities were almost endless. Jiraiya henged into _air_ at one point. It boggled the mind how little it was used in canon.

Unfortunately for me, the world I lived in was more consistent. The more a form differed from your own, the more chakra it took, and the longer it took to perform. Henging into another person, assuming they were around your size, was fairly easy, thought it still took several seconds. Henging into an inanimate object was not something most ninja could pull off. On top of that, you ended up with the sensory apparatuses of the form you assumed. As a plant or rock all you could do was count to yourself how long you'd been in that form and hope you reverted at the right time. It was still incredibly useful, but was very hard to pull off and was reserved mostly for non-combat situations.

All that aside, the jutsu were still incredibly useful, if somewhat less so than I had hoped. I had practiced them until I was fairly proficient. I was by no means a master: I still needed all the seals, I could not avoid creating smoke when I did them, and they still took me a while to perform. Still, every time I tried I was successful, which is all we were being tested on today.

Once I was done I waited outside the academy for Naruto. I didn't put on my hitai-ite, and I wouldn't until I had a chance to inscribe the speed seal on its inward-facing side. Shikamaru was lying on a nearby hill, using his hitai-ite as a pillow, eyes towards the sky. I walked over to join him.

"You actually showed up. Guess I owe Hinata 50 ryō"

He scowled at me. "Really? I thought you were smarter than that. There was no way I would miss the test; Mom would've never let me hear the end of it."

We traded a few more quips before lapsing into a comfortable silence. This was one of the things I liked about Shikamaru: unlike most people, especially children, he did not fear silence. Whereas many people chattered inanely, as if they had a word quota to meet, my conversations with Shika were frequently punctuated by periods of quiet, which I usually spent thinking and he spent somewhere on the spectrum between thinking and sleeping. As if he could hear my thoughts and sought to prove me wrong, he spoke.

"Who are you waiting for, anyway?"

"Naruto. I want to see if he passes. If he does, I'll probably take him somewhere to celebrate."

"Why? You don't like him." Blunt as ever, Shika.

"That's not true. I just don't particularly like _spending time_ with him. There's a distinction. Still, he will almost certainly be on my team. Intra-team relations will be much nicer if he thinks of us as friends, not just teammates that were stuck together."

"Almost certainly teammates, huh? Someone's a little cocky."

"Some of us actually put effort into things. You should try it sometime. It really helps with knowing you succeeded afterward."

He smiled lazily. "Don't change the subject. You started befriending him long before team assignments were a foregone conclusion. I understand why you courted the rest of us, clan shinobi and all—"

"Courted nine people at once? What kind of girl do you take me for?"

"You know what I mean. And Sakura kind of comes as a package deal with Ino," he continued as if I hadn't interrupted, "but why Naruto? He's troublesome and has no special skills that I'm aware of. And don't say it was for team assignments you've been predicting since we were six. Even if that were true, we both know the help you've given him over the years is the only reason he even has a chance of passing today. What do you know that I don't?"

Well, this was interesting. A natural consequence of the curiosity and drive I'd worked hard to engender in him for years. I was happy that he was taking an interest, but somewhat less happy that he was asking me about s-ranked secrets.

"Couldn't I just have been friendly?"

"You? I don't think so. I've barely seen you exchange five words with any child not of the aforementioned nine. I'm not sure I've ever seen you do something that didn't advance your interests in at least one way, often several. You seem to be always making plans, an impression not helped by those encoded notebooks you're constantly scribbling in. Forgive me if I won't attribute your actions to childish whimsy."

Well now, this was _very_ interesting. I didn't think he'd been paying that much attention to me, but I guess I shouldn't be that surprised. We had spent a lot of time together. I had intended to devote most of my socializing time to Naruto and Sasuke, but they were really hard to be around. Naruto was annoying and childish, while Sasuke was cold and harsh. I had ended up spending most of my free time on Shikamaru and Hinata, people I actually enjoyed talking to. After all that time I should probably have expected him to have a pretty good idea of me. I had never really tried to hide my ulterior motives from him and, no matter how he acted, he _was_ a genius.

"Thanks for that oh-so-flattering character dissection. I think that Naruto will surprise you. I think he has hidden potential, both in his personality and from…outside factors. I can't tell you specifics." He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. "Not won't, _can't_. This is an s-ranked secret. That's all I'm allowed to tell you. Still, you're a smart boy. I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out if you try."

He gave me a dirty look before turning his eyes back to the clouds.

"Why ask now, anyway? This is something you've probably wondered about for a while."

"Well, we're ninja of Konoha now, aren't we? Loyalty to the village and all that." He puffed out his chest and straightened his shoulders in an exaggerated fashion, an effect somewhat spoiled by his horizontality. "Couldn't have a kunoichi of questionable motivation running around. Who knows what kind of trouble she might get into?"

I was about to retort when I heard a squeal of delight. I turned just in time to get a faceful of blond hair as Ino hugged me.

"We did it, Ami! Ninja at last!" She turned to Shikamaru. "Oh, you passed too. _Great_."

"Try to sound a little more enthused, why don't you. I'm probably going to be on your team, you know."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Yeah, but I don't have to like it. Between you and Chouji all our team is ever going to do is eat and sleep." She turned back to face me. "What about you, Ami, who do you think you'll be teamed with?"

We spent some time speculating on team possibilities. Well, she speculated. I was almost positive who would be on the three teams that mattered. I felt a little guilty about sidelining Sakura, but there would always be next year for her. From a certain perspective, I would be saving her from a lot of pain and hardship.

Sasuke came out of the Academy not too long after Ino had. He took one look at Ino's girlish exuberance and walked the other way. I almost went after him but, as was so often the case these days, I didn't know what I would say.

A few minutes later we heard a commotion from inside. A minute after that, Naruto emerged, hitai-ite pinned proudly (and crookedly) across his forehead. He ran over to us, practically bouncing with excitement.

"You were right, Ami! All I had to do was make a bunch of them! Man, you should've seen their faces, dattebayo! It was great!" He looked around. "Where'd Sakura go? I wanna show her my hitai."

I stifled a laugh as Shika muttered under his breath that it was clear Naruto wanted to show her something, but it probably wasn't his hitai.

"She had a family get-together," I said, giving Shika a swift kick in the side. "Anyway, I was thinking we should go for a celebration dinner. What do you three think?"

Naruto practically tripped over himself in his haste to say yes. Shika grunted something that I chose to interpret as a yes. Ino looked between me and Naruto, wrinkling her nose at the fox-boy. It would probably not be that much fun to have the two of them together, but I really did need to start integrating Naruto into the main social circle. I had made overtures before, but hadn't had much success. I'd put it off, telling myself I had lots of time. That was no longer true.

"Please, Ino? We can go—"I suppressed a shudder"—_shopping_ afterward."

She narrowed her eyes. "What _kind_ of shopping?"

Honestly, you divert one "shopping" trip to go to the bookstore and they never let you live it down. "Your choice."

"Oh, okay then. What are we waiting for?"

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_Sorry to have another chapter full of exposition. I've been experimenting with switching between exposition and real-time but I don't think I got the balance quite right here. This was the last time-skip for a while though; the next…number between 2 and 50…chapters will be day-by-day or week-by-week, so things should pick up._

_I don't mean to disparage Kishimoto. It's just a case of an author coming up with some ideas that seem cool to them without really thinking through all the possibilities they open. Happens all the time. That being said, the Henge is a pretty egregious example. It seems like Kishimoto conceived it as being mainly a visual thing, as it's pretty much only used in the manga for deception, but then he went ahead and said that a transformed shinobi was indistinguishable from the genuine article, which was just too much. Shoutout to MaleficentRace for bringing this up in a review. I was already going to have this segment, but he/she gave me some examples I didn't know about, like the turning into air thing._


	7. Chapter 7: Team

**A/N:**

**On Schedule Slips**: Sorry for the long delay between chapters! The delay I foresaw took longer than expected and segued into exam season, which dovetailed into the family circus that is Christmas/New Years. This chapter ended up being quite long and I cut it in half, so expect the next one to be long fairly soon. After that, I'm going to be pretty busy for the next couple months; you can probably expect a chapter about once a month (though maybe with a few more concentrated runs, if I can set aside a weekend and crank out a chapter or two).

**On reviews**: They are great.

**Disclaimer: **Oh yes, the Kishimoto _can_ hurt. But from the way I see it, you can either run from it, or…learn from it.

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**Chapter 7: The 'Me' In Team**

"Team 9: Hinata, Kiba, Shino."

There were a few scattered claps. The team was to be expected. The synergy of their reconnaissance abilities was too useful to waste. The three genin disappeared, presumably to find their jōnin.

"Team 7: Sasuke, Naruto, Sakura."

I reeled as if struck. If anyone cheered or applauded, I did not hear them. How…? Had she ended up ahead of me? Was I wrong about how the selection worked? I felt a chill. Had they figured out I was experimenting with seals? Or that I wasn't what I seemed? Would ANBU be showing up to take me away? Should—

A voice broke into my reverie.

"_Team Unwanted Liars: Alexis._"

Wha…I hadn't heard that name or even that _language_ in twelve years. How…?

I was suddenly standing at the front of the classroom.

Iruka lowered the scroll that blocked his face from view, and I looked into Itachi's eyes. Pain erupted across my whole body as cuts appeared in my skin. Itachi's face twisted into a cruel grin and I started screaming.

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I awoke in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets, throat raw. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and channeled a bit of chakra into a seal on my headboard. Light flooded my room, and I glanced at the clock that decorated the wall above my bed. 5:00 A.M. No way I was getting back to sleep tonight.

I reached up and tapped the other seal I'd placed on my bed. The veil of silence came down and the faint sounds of night-time Konoha trickled in to my ears. It was one of the first seals I'd searched for once I understood the basics of sealing. My parents never complained about my nightmiares—did not want to heap guilt on top of the pile of psychological dysfunctions I was already dealing with, I suspected—but I could see the worry in their eyes. Whenever I woke them with my screams, one of them would come and hold me until I stopped shaking. They would curl up around me as I lay back down, shielding me in a cocoon of parental affection, until I slept once more. Or, as was more often the case, calmed down enough to convincingly feign sleep. The toll it took on them, both physical through lack of sleep and psychological through impotence in the face of their child's suffering, was not one I could pay for long and retain my tenuous grip on sanity. Ergo, the silence seal.

I didn't use it all the time; I think my parents would have been suspicious about an instantaneous recovery. I gradually reduced the number of times I woke them, leaving the seal up constantly by the time I was eleven. The frequency of my nightmares themselves also diminished. Now, I mostly only got them when I was really stressed about something. Which, given my chosen line of work and future-knowledge, was still pretty often.

I rose with a sigh and set to preparing for the day. I calmed as I did my morning exercises, shaking muscles finally relaxing. I washed the dishes from yesterday's dinner. With Naruto in tow, Ino, Shika and I had been turned away from every restaurant we went to. The increasingly downtrodden look on Naruto's usually exuberant face was hard to bear. On the other hand, the look of pure jubilation he got when Ino—after my assurances that the persecution was through no fault of his own—had loudly declared that it was unfair and all restaurant owners were idiots, had made it all worth it.

Shikamaru had watched this exchange silently and tipped his head to me when I looked over. So my manipulations were a little transparent. I was OK with that, so long as _Ino_ didn't realize that the point of excursion had been to garner her sympathy for Naruto. And Shikamaru's sense of justice was no less keen than Ino's, even if it was quieter. Knowing that I had intentionally shown it to him would not make Naruto's mistreatment bother him any less.

I had expected the, ah, _poor service_ we received and had prepared some extra food that morning. We swung by my house and picked it up along with some blankets. I know we could have gone to Ichiraku's, but I didn't want to intrude on Naruto's sanctum until I was more certain of the positive reactions of those we went with. Besides, the psychological impact of seeing Naruto be repeatedly rejected would be somewhat undercut by the acceptance he found there. Plus, I don't really like ramen.

We had the picnic on a hill overlooking the Hokage Residence. In the original timeline, that would have been around the time Naruto, enlisted by Mizuki, would have been stealing the Scroll of Seals. I had spent many hours trying to figure out how to get my hands on the scroll without relying on Naruto's dubious burglary skills. Without the shadow clone technique, Naruto would be vastly weaker than his canon counterpart.

The ease with which Naruto had snatched the scroll in the manga seemed a little incongruous with the ninja world I'd seen thus far. As a test, I had—henged as Asuma—ordered some dango sticks sent to the Hokage's Residence, with instructions that they be taken in the back door. I had watched the poor delivery man with a little help from a vision magnifying seal. The man who intercepted the delivery, dressed as a civilian, could have been a coincidence, but the ANBU crouched on a nearby rooftop, a shuriken in each hand, arms cocked to throw, probably was not.

I doubted Naruto would be able to steal the scroll without being detected, bulling straight forward as he certainly would. With meticulous planning, I _might _have been able to pull it off, but the risks were too high. I decided on less illicit means: spending the day with Naruto so Mizuki could not approach him and an anonymous note delivered to ANBU warning them of a possible theft—delivered by a child, hired with a few ryō while henged—to ensure Mizuki could not get away with it himself. I had a few ideas for how to get Naruto the Kage Bunshin, but they would have to wait until we had our team assignments.

I smiled as I put away the last of the dishes from the picnic, remembering the veritable swarm of ANBU that had descended on the Hokage Residence to emerge a half a minute later, blustering Mizuki in hand. It was nearly 7:00; my parents would be up soon. I set about making breakfast and prepared to greet the day.

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The team assignments went as expected. The only surprise was that Asuma's team was called Team 8 this time, while Kurenai's was called Team 10. I tried for a minute to figure out what could have possibly prompted that change, but quickly abandoned that train of thought. That way lay madness.

Team Seven was the last group left in the classroom, awaiting our punctuality-challenged jōnin. Sasuke lounged across the front-most bench, engaged in a glaring contest with the wall. The wall was losing. I had expected the delay and had come prepared; I was reading a book on Suna sealing practices. Naruto was sitting across the aisle from Sasuke, struggling mightily to sit still.

Not long ago, Sasuke had said he would be surprised if Naruto could contain himself for half an hour. The manipulation was transparent, but Naruto just declared himself the "Number one ninja at surprising people!" and sat on his hands. The half-hour was almost up and Naruto was practically bouncing in his seat. His eyes darted around the room. Looking for something to distract himself, presumably. His eyes finally settled on the doorway Kakashi-sensei would be coming through. I could practically see the gears turning in his head. Lift-off in T minus 5…4…3…2…

"Waiting is boring!" Naruto yelled. "Anyone who makes me wait this long is just asking to be pranked."

He went to his bag and drew out a thin spool of rope. He smiled at my upraised eyebrow. "You're always talking about how important it is to be prepared, you know? So I started carrying rope around. You never know when you're gonna need to prank someone without warning. And rope is just so great!"

"I was talking more about missions, but it's nice to hear you were listening, at least some of the time," I said.

He went over to the desk next to the door and tied the top edge furthest from the door to the doorknob. That done, he tied the bottoms of the front legs to one of the benches, repositioning the desk so that its top would just reach beyond the door when it fell, tripping whoever was trying to walk through. That was…surprisingly sophisticated. I scolded myself. Shouldn't surprise me: Naruto had always been clever, despite his lack of analytical skills, book learning, and social intelligence. Pretty soon I would be relying on him in life or death situations; it was important that I have an accurate picture of both his weaknesses _and _strengths.

"You think a jōnin is going to be tripped up by a desk and some ropes? You really are pathetic." Sasuke's voice practically dripped with scorn. If only he could bottle and sell it Konoha would never have to run another mission, we could all just live off the proceeds.

"You're the pathetic one, spiky hair!" Naruto said, throwing himself at Sasuke.

"Your hair is just as spiky as mine!" Sasuke said, leaning aside and redirecting Naruto into the wall. He was not expecting Naruto to hit the wall and launch himself right back at Sasuke—I suppose all the bouncing off the walls he'd been doing for the last two hours had been good practice—and they went down in a tangle together.

Their scuffle went as it usually did. Sasuke repeatedly put Naruto down, while most of Naruto's attacks missed by miles. Still, Naruto never stayed down for long and the occasional unconventional move would land a glancing blow. I was just considering attempting to break them up when there was a loud crash and Kakashi-sensei sprawled across the floor.

"HAHA, it did work! Take that, Sasuke!" Naruto's triumphant yells were silenced by another takedown.

Kakashi picked himself up and surveyed the room with his one visible eye, taking in the toppled rope-and-desk contraption along with the pair of squabbling boys.

"What a great way to make a first impression."

Looking at Kakashi was causing me a fair bit of cognitive dissonance. I knew he was Copy Ninja Kakashi, Kakashi of the Sharingan, elite jōnin of the highest order. I knew that in another lifetime he had become the Sixth Hokage. I knew he was one of the most dangerous men alive, that he could kill all three of us in the time we could draw a breath. His dog mask had featured prominently in several of my nightmares.

And yet…he looked so damn benign. If had to describe his appearance and mannerisms using only one word, it would be disarming. The way he slouched, the casual way he walked, the way he tripped over desks, the way he managed to always have a goofy expression on his face despite covering most of it. All of it made my subconscious want to write him off as no threat. That was _impressive_.

The image of ninja as black-clad shadows was frankly a ridiculous one, derived from Japanese theater conventions. The kuroko (stage hands) would dress all in black to indicate that viewers should treat them as invisible, as part of the scenery. With that established as a convention, ninja—who were supposed to be the masters of stealth—would dress and act as kuroko until their cue to enter the scene, when they would begin to act as a character, for all intents and purposes appearing from nowhere. The kuroko costume thus became the ninja costume in the public consciousness.

The best disguise for a ninja was not, in most cases, to look like the night, but rather to look like a non-ninja. Sure, sometimes night missions were a necessity (though in all probability for those dark blue was the preferred color over black, as it stands out less when silhouetted against the night sky), but most of the time ninja just wanted to appear as civilians. That Kakashi could appear non-threatening to me when I knew he could kill me with both hands tied behind his back (and would, if he thought it were for the good of the village) spoke volumes about his infiltration capabilities.

"Meet me on the roof as soon as you can." Kakashi vanished in a puff of smoke.

I quickly mapped the route to the roof in my head. It would require going all the way around the school, up a set of steps, back around to this wing, up another set of step, through several rooms and up a ladder. Way too large a detour; I had a better idea. I turned to my teammates to coordinate with them in time to catch a last flash of orange disappearing through the door. Sasuke was long gone. Oh well. Team building would come later ("Would it really?" an insidious little voice asked, "They sure did abandon you quickly. What if—") Shhhh. No time for that: I had a roof to get to.

I shunshined to the window and threw it open. Climbing up around the window would be awkward and slow; I would take a more direct route. I unclasped my cloak and threw it out the window. When it was about two feet out, I activated my speed seal and threw myself after it, twisting so my feet hit it first and I faced downward. I pushed off the cloak, flipping my legs over my head, seal-reduced weight low enough for me to get a fair bit of distance off it. As I flipped, I reached up and snagged the cloak just as my feet hit the wall and I deactivated the seal.

My weight returned in a rush, but I was already pumping chakra through my feet. I broke into a vertical jog, settling my cloak back over my shoulders. I was still a little shaky at running while tree/wall-walking, but the porous brick of the academy absorbed the chakra readily. I reached the roof within a few seconds and threw myself over the lip, landing in a taijutsu stance by habit.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow at my dynamic entry but said nothing. I suppose it barely rated on the scale of dynamic entries he'd seen, with all the time he'd spent around Might Guy. Sasuke arrived ten or so seconds later, shock briefly tingeing his exertion-flushed face upon seeing me already there, but he quickly returned to his usual cool facade. Naruto was a similar distance behind Sasuke. He tried to jump the last few rungs of the ladder and land in a V-for-Victory pose, but he misjudged the distance and clipped the final rung, landing in a sprawl.

He was up in a flash, goofy grin plastered across his face. I wondered, not for the first time, how much of his clowning was his natural persona and how much was an act: a shield between himself and the hardships of this world that had been so cruel to him, much as Sasuke's aloofness was. Humor as a coping mechanism was an idea as old as time (or at least as old as humor) and it would fit with many of his actions. Failure couldn't hurt if all your attempts were jokes, could it? Difficulty reading would be painful and shameful if it were because there had been no one who would teach you properly, but not if it were the result of you declaring books dumb and choosing to play outside instead whenever they were brought out.

On the other hand, Naruto was just so damn _genuine_. It was hard to imagine him maintaining any sort of act, even a cheerful one. There was a decent chance I was projecting here. The truth was probably somewhere in the middle, where it was usually found. I could easily see a young Naruto realizing (subconsciously or otherwise) that playing the fool was the only time people interacted with him normally. He could make his peers laugh, and then the ire of the adults would have a reason, would make sense. Anger at a prank pulled was infinitely preferable to nebulous hatred with an unknown source.

It wouldn't be have been an act so much as playing up a certain facet of his personality. A natural excitability combined with boundless energy could make him into a boisterous, bellicose, yelling joker. I wondered if his clownier aspects would fade once more people started to treat him as a person, not a demon-vessel. He _was_ noticeably less silly when it was just the two of us. Only time would tell.

"Well, now that you're all here, let's begin with some introductions, shall we? You there, bookworm, why don't you start? Tell us about yourself" Kakashi said.

Bookworm? He obviously knew our names, being assigned as our sensei. Was this an attempt to see how we handled disrespect and/or pressure? Or just part of his general apathetic, nonchalant routine? Didn't really matter, I supposed.

"I don't really know what you want to know. Naruto and Sasuke already know me fairly well. Why don't you go first, and give us a structure we can emulate?"

"Yeah, we don't know anything about you!" Naruto said.

"Oh, I'm not looking for anything special. Likes, dislikes, hobbies, passions, goals, that kind of thing. For example: I'm Kakashi Hatake. I like having dislikes. My hobby is to have passion for my goals. Now you."

"My name is Ami Wakahisa. I like reading and training and knowing how things work. I dislike ignorance, irrational people, and restrictions on my freedom. My hobbies include playing Shogi and researching. I am passionate about everything I do. My goals are to become a seal master and be part of a great ninja team." That remark about the team might be laying it on a bit thick, but I did want Kakashi and I to get off on the right foot, especially given my plans for tomorrow. It also had the added benefit of being true.

"Alright. Next?"

"My name is Naruto Uzumaki, Number One Unpredictable Ninja! I really like ramen, and Ichiraku's! And Sakura! And Ami, though not as a girl." I choked back a laugh. I'm not sure quite what facial expression that looked like, but it must have been something, because Naruto blanched and began stammering. "Uh, not that you aren't…I mean, it's just that she…Uh…have I ever told you how pretty you are?"

He looked so hangdog and repentant that I burst out laughing. Kakashi let out a dry chuckle and even Sasuke defrosted a bit. I had once told Naruto that if he ever didn't know what to say to Ino, that he should just compliment her looks. I guess he had heard "Ino" as "all girls".

"Anyway. I dislike waiting for ramen to cook. And Sasuke. And people who are mean for no reason. My hobby is pranking. My passion is ramen. My dream…is to become the Hokage and show my value to everyone in Konoha!" Kakashi raised his eyebrow at that but made no comment, just gestured to Sasuke.

"My name is Sasuke Uchiha. I don't like anything enough to mention. Nothing I dislike"—his eyes flicked to Naruto—"is significant enough to mention. I have no hobbies. My passion is to become stronger. My goals are to rebuild my clan and"—his eyes flicked to me—"to kill a certain man."

"Well then," said Kakashi, "aren't you a motivated bunch of genin. Good. You're going to need that motivation, because tomorrow you have your final test, the hardest one yet."

"What!? But we just had our final test yesterday! There's a final final test?"

"Yes, Naruto," I said, "as you would know if you ever listened in class. This is the test to separate us into the jōnin and genin tracks, right?"

"Yes. Any of you who fail the test will not be able to continue on the jōnin track. You and Sasuke would have the option of repeating the last year at the academy and trying again, or joining the genin corps. Naruto, with the marks you had, you would be forced to join the genin corps if you wanted to continue as a ninja."

"No way! I'm going to get my face on that mountain someday. No test is going to stop me!"

"Hmmm. We'll see. Be at training ground twelve tomorrow at the crack of dawn. Don't eat anything for breakfast." He smiled cruelly at us, hands forming seals. "I will be your opponent." A puff of smoke, and he was gone.

"No breakfast! That jerk! I'll kick his ass so hard…!"

.

* * *

_._

_I wanted to try to capture the voices of the characters, so I went back and reread some of the earlier manga, looking carefully at speech patterns, but I realized that I actually really dislike most of the dialog of Naruto. Maybe it's just the translations I found, but a lot of the dialog was stilted or unnecessary and unfunny or insultingly obvious. I've decided to just continue to write based on how I think people talk, based in turn on the personality of the character (though I will, of course, keep specific idiosyncratic speech patterns: your "troublesomes" and "dattebayos")._

_It's annoying writing a story that is ostensibly in Japanese, translated for the reader into English. It prevents me from making certain jokes. I wanted Ami's dislikes to be: "ignorance, irrational people, and the Oxford comma", but Japanese doesn't really have an equivalent (that I could find with 5 minutes of Google) so I had to abandon it and now her answer is boringly serious. _

_It's probably worth noting that by now characters are starting to become somewhat OOC compared to their canon counterparts. Most of the ways this has happened so far should be either obvious enough that I don't think I need to point it out, or (in theory) subtle enough that you can't figure it out yet but will play a part later. For example, Naruto is somewhat more socially astute, as a result of spending time socializing with Ami. Partially because one of Ami's primary hobbies, if she were to answer Kakashi's question honestly, is people watching, and she has a tendency to share her observations with her friends. Partially just because canon Naruto's social stunting was a result of not having anyone to talk to, so having a regular conversational partner would increase his social intelligence as a matter of course. _


	8. Chapter 8: Interlude: Tales

**A/N:**

**On Timing Predictions**: Every time I say "Expect the next chapter in X weeks" my life gets incredibly hectic, so now I'm just going to start saying that you'll get the next chapter when it's done, not a moment sooner and not a moment later. I will let you know if I ever decide to abandon this story, have no fear of that.

…That being said, this one time it would be reasonable to expect the next chapter sometime soon, as it is mostly finished. I know I said that last time, but this time I swear I won't completely change my mind about what is to happen and delete everything I've written.

**Disclaimer**: His followers called him Mahakishimotoatman and said he was a god. He preferred to drop the Maha- and the -atman, however, and called himself Kishimoto. He never claimed to be a god, but then he never claimed not to be a god.

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* * *

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**Chapter 8: Interlude: Nine Tales**

Naruto set his mouth in a determined line as he dug into his fifteenth bowl of instant ramen. He'd been really worried about being told not to eat breakfast, until he realized that One-eye hadn't said anything about eating a ton the night before. He'd hatched a devious plan: eat all the ramen he had left at his apartment. That way there was no way he'd be hungry in the morning. It was a good plan, but now Naruto was starting to have his doubts. He'd started to feel full around bowl 7. Then his stomach started to hurt around bowl 13. Now he had to admit something to himself that he'd never thought he'd admit.

_He didn't want any more ramen._

He'd hadn't thought that could happen when he'd made his plan. There were only five more bowls left after this one, but it was starting to look like…No! He wouldn't give up! He was the number one unpredictable ninja! He would be Hokage some day! He wouldn't let himself be beaten by a bunch of noodles!

He forced himself to take another bite and grimaced. On the other hand…he thought about something Ami had told him about a few days ago. She was going on about plans and decisions like she often did. Naruto usually didn't listen very closely. It was really boring. Still, it seemed to make her happy when she thought he was paying attention, so he would smile and nod and think about ways to prank people. That day she'd been talking about the saying "No plan survives first contact with the enemy". She said that, like all arborisms, it had a crumb of truth, but was misleading, that plans could and did work if you made them carefully, with the best info you could get, with lots of contingencies, and updated them whenever you could.

Normally he wouldn't have remembered any of that, but then she went on to ask him about his plans to become Hokage. He'd told her about how he would become really strong and respected and they'd have to make him Hokage. She had asked what he would do if some things happened. What if someone even stronger than him showed up? What if there was someone who didn't like strong people? What if there were people who didn't like him for no reason? She'd winced a bit when she said that one. They went over each thing that he could do if something got in his way (contingencies, she'd called them). Then she'd said that there were things you just couldn't plan for, that you had no way of knowing could happen, that you would never in a million years expect. That when that happened you needed to not be attached to the old plan, not to try to make it work, but to come up with a completely new plan. Then she'd started talking about potability weighing functions and he'd gone back to thinking of ways to mess up the clan symbol on the teme's jacket.

Which brought him back to not wanting anymore ramen.

He really did want to finish it, but his stomach was starting to hurt like he'd had bad milk. He could see himself at the training ground the next day, rolling on the ground, hands on his stomach. He could hear the teme's voice saying "Disabled by a bunch of ramen? You really are pathetic." Could hear Sakura-chan saying "I came here to tell you I liked you, Naruto, but now that I see you like this I think I'll go out with Sasuke-teme instead."

No! That wouldn't happen! He put the chopsticks down with a sigh and began to cleanup, thoughts now stuck on Sakura. An involuntary smile split his lips, but his thoughts were not happy ones. What did she see in that bastard anyway? He was so cold towards her. Towards everyone. Couldn't she see how much Naruto liked her? Naruto would give anything to have someone who liked him like that, who smiled every time she thought of him.

Whatever.

Tomorrow he would ace the test and impress Sakura so much she would have to like him!

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* * *

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Hinata smiled as thoughts of a blond-haired, hyperactive Hokage-to-be filled her head.

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* * *

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"…So you see, Uchiha-sama, failure at this critical junction would be disastrous. If Hiruzen's faction wins this vote, he will be that much closer to the tyranny he has been working toward since his appointment."

Sasuke resisted the urge to rub his temples at the impending the headache the councilor was bringing on. He briefly entertained a wonderful vision of chasing the civilian out of the Uchiha compound, katon hot on his heels. Alas, he could not. As the last of his clan, all of its honor lay on his shoulders. He would not besmirch that legacy by willfully discarding propriety, no matter how much he wished to.

"Be that as it may, councilor, you know as well as I do that I do not currently have control of the Uchiha seat. Hiruzen holds its voting rights until my sixteenth birthday or jōninhood. I do not find it likely that he would vote against his own proposal." His voice echoed around the nearly empty audience chamber. It was ludicrously large and decorated for the purposes of one man come to beg favors from a twelve-year-old boy, but the councilor was technically here on official business, and there were procedures to observe.

"But surely, Uchiha-sama, if you prevailed upon him…"

"If he's as tyrannical as you say, why would he listen to anything I said?"

The councilor smiled unctuously. "He is, for the moment, constrained by popular opinion. He must keep up appearances. If it were known that he was using the Uchiha vote against the Uchiha's interests, he would lose much of his influence. The Uchiha are still a much-loved clan, one of the few remaining that might oppose Sarutobi without fear of reprisal. If you were to…"

As the councilor babbled on, Sasuke's annoyance grew. He needed to get rid of this windbag before he was driven to physical violence. He thought back to the few audiences of his father's that he'd been allowed to attend as a child. Though the years had hidden many of Fugaku's features from him, he still remembered some of his father's mannerisms clearly.

He sat up perfectly straight and let his upper lip rise slightly, as if a bad smell had entered the chamber. He looked down upon the councilor, thankful for the elevation provided by the family head's chair.

"And what would you presume to know about the interests of the Uchiha, _civilian?" _Each word dripped condescension, their speaker completely secure in his own superiority."The Uchiha were supreme in a time when your ancestors were still grubbing in the mud, and we will still be strong when your line has faded into dust."

The councilor's eyes had gone very wide. It was not an attractive look on a man who already resembled a partially squashed toad. "But, my lord, surely you want—"

"You clearly do no know what I want, since my primary want at this moment is for you to be gone from this compound."

"But, if you…surely we…"

"_Get. Out. Of. My. House._"

A spike of killing intent escaped Sasuke's control and permeated the room. The councilor fled. He tripped over his robes in his haste to leave, and the door actually did hit him on the way out.

Sasuke sighed, annoyed at himself for losing his temper. _Nothing wrong with that_, he thought_. Father lost his temper all the time_. He scowled. _Shut up. I am __**not**_ _Father._

He set about cleaning up the ceremonial tea set and cushions. He had considered hiring a maid—Kami knew he had the funds for it—but had decided that the reduction in housework was not worth the trouble of dealing someone every day. There were cleaners for the compound, of course. There was no way he could maintain it himself, as large as it was. That was different, though; they only came every few weeks, and Sasuke made sure he was always elsewhere while they cleaned.

As he put everything away, he considered what to do with the rest of his evening. He would be fighting Kakashi tomorrow. If he knew more about Kakashi he could train to counter the jōnin's fighting style, but he didn't really keep up to date with the news and details of prominent ninja. With one notable exception.

No. His training was to beat one ninja, and he would not waste even a single night's work on someone else. If he made himself strong enough to beat _that_ man, then no upstart jōnin would pose any trouble to him anyway. Assuming his teammates didn't get in his way too much, that was. He scowled again as he thought of them. He hadn't payed attention to the team selection process, and as a reward he'd gotten stuck with the last two teammates he would ever have chosen.

Naruto, dobe, dead last. Not only the most annoying ninja of their class, but also the most useless. Only Sakura would have been more annoying, and she at least would be useful have been useful for some things. Like, if they ever had a desperate need to do some flower arranging while on mission. And at least her obsession with him made sense, followed a recognizable pattern. Naruto's obsession with beating him was just strange. And pathetic.

Oh well. They both had the same chance of realizing their dreams.

Ami, on the other hand…she might be useful. He hadn't sparred her in years, but even then there had been a large gap in their skill. By now there was little chance she'd be anywhere near his level. Still, she could be an asset in planning, if nothing else. That being said, seeing her brought back…No. Best she were on any other team.

Maybe he could request a transfer to a different team? If not, he would just need to test up to chūnin quickly. Maybe he'd get lucky and they would fail the test tomorrow while he passed.

He arrived at the much-used Uchiha training ground he favored and fell into a familiar stance. In the end, it didn't matter. They were all just distractions anyway. If they made him stronger he would use them until he was done then discard them. If not, he would find a way to remove them from his life. There was a man he needed to kill, and anyone who got in his way would regret it.

That matter settled, he began to form the first seal of the Great Fireball Technique.

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* * *

.

Kurama wrapped his hands around one of the bars of his cell and flexed mightily. It didn't budge. It seemed today was not the day. He sat back. No matter. He was patient.

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* * *

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Kakashi sat on his haunches in front of the memorial stone, team files in hand. A jōnin of his caliber could comfortably stand for days, but Obito had always made fun of him when he needlessly stood while he could have been sitting.

He looked back and forth between the files in his hand, the memorial stone, and the distantly-visible cemetery, drawing the obvious parallels. Damnit, Sarutobi. This had the old meddler's fingerprints all over it. Sure, the team had the classic top kunoichi, top shinobi, dead last distribution, but that "rule" was ignored more often than it was followed, and was usually just used when there was an older genin or new chūnin who needed some hotshot genin teammates (once the dead last dropped out, of course). Somehow, Kakashi did not think that was the plan with this team.

He could see the potential. The last scion of the Uchiha, genius and master of the Sharingan matched on the other side by the Yondaime's son, jinchūriki of the nine-tails. Between them, this Ami, keeping the peace. She seemed to have the temperament for it. And, to all appearances, the emotional intuition (or manipulative ability, depending on your perspective) to make it work.

—_A flash of wide eyes and two purple stripes_—

Kakashi absentmindedly began scrubbing his right hand with his left. She might even become something in her own right. No academy student had graduated with her mastery of seals in, well, ever.

But to realize that potential they would need to live through him being their team leader, something at which he had a piss-poor track record. If all of them—or even one of them—died from one of his orders or, Kami forbid, at his hand, it would break him utterly and irrevocably. He noticed what his hands were doing and stilled them. No. They would have other, safer chances in later years. _Sorry Sarutobi. You tried to give me a team I couldn't bring myself to fail, but you ended up giving me a team I couldn't afford to pass._

Better that they should fail the test, and save everyone the pain.

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* * *

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Mr. and Mrs. Wakahisa watched in consternation as their daughter ran past them, disappeared into her room, grabbed a set of scrolls, and left their house through the door she'd thrown open not thirty seconds prior, yelling over her shoulder that she'd be out late and they shouldn't wait up. They shared a look and shrugged in unison.

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* * *

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Itachi looked at the corpses before him, attempting to hold on to his composure. For all that Akatsuki's ostensible goal was world peace, they accorded relatively little value to the sanctity of human life.

Five business men had come together to provide long-term loans to those who wished to learn a trade, to be paid off upon establishment as a tradesman. It would have raised the amount of skilled labor in the region, and-most likely, eventually-brought prosperity to a dying city. They were-had been-forward thinking in a way few businessmen were, at least in Itachi's experience.

Unfortunately for them, it turned out to be a risky venture, though not for the reasons they had probably expected. The local lending syndicate had not taken too kindly to others encroaching on their turf, and had paid handsomely to have their competitors put-permanently-out of business.

Itachi had heard Nagato's reasoning. Only by making the world experience the pain of war and loss would they come to realize the need for peace. Which was the stupidest, most naive bullshit Itachi had ever heard. He'd done as bad-and worse-before, for ANBU, but at least that had been in the service of his village, to protect his brother. _So is this_, he reminded himself.

Kisame had had a grand old time, of course. It had probably reminded him of the happy days of his misspent youth.

Itachi was just crouching down to examine the ring one of the men sported when he heard a creaking come from a nearby closet. Instantly, he was there, shuriken in one hand, kunai in the other. He activated a simple genjutsu that would make all observers see him as being two meters further to his right than he was, and threw open the closet door, arm poised to strike.

Within crouched a woman, tears streaming down her face, arms tightly holding the face of a child of perhaps five against her shoulder. She opened her mouth to scream and Itachi quickly dropped a sound-dampening jutsu over her.

"Itachi? What was all that racket" called Kisame from the next room, where he was searching for cash.

"Nothing of consequence," said Itachi. "A cat in a closet."

Itachi motioned for the woman to stay as he put together another quick genjutsu. Kisame poked his grey-skinned around the doorway. "A cat? Where? I hate those mangy fish-eaters."

"There." Itachi said, pointing. He mentally directed the cat-image he'd created to scurry out the other door as the missing-nin entered. The woman cowered at the sight of him, confusion plain on her face. That was fine. So long as she didn't do anything foolish he would be able to hide her. "You done in there?"

"Yeah, I am. Looks like they'd already lent out all the money they had. All this for a company that was going under anyway. Ha!"

"We get paid the same either way," said Itachi. "Let's go."

Then he left, trying desperately not to notice that the woman had a ring that matched that of the corpse at his feet.

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* * *

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Jiraiya giggled as he peeked over the fence. Yes! From here he could just see—

"Uh, Jiraiya-sama? Do you have a moment?"

Jiraiya looked down and saw a two-foot-tall toad standing in from of him. "Shhhh! Can't it wait?" he whispered.

"Not really," the toad replied, not dropping its voice in the slightest. "Some rumors have come to my attention that you really need to know about."

Jiraiya glanced over the fence at the now-empty hot spring. The women had probably been scared off by the toad's voice. Damnit. Oh, well. Business before pleasure. He would just have to finish his research some other time. He turned back to the toad.

"Alright, Gamako, what have you heard?"

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* * *

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Gatō sipped his lemonade as he considered the mass of cuts and bruises that lay at his feet. The man whimpered and Gatō made a face: too sour. He placed the glass down on the nearby table. His cook would feel his displeasure. Later. For now, he had business to attend to.

So, old Tazuna was going to hire ninja to protect himself and his precious bridge. How annoying. Gatō had expected him to roll over and give up after Kaiza's death. Turns out he had more steel than Gatō had given him credit for. Good for him. He would have to die for it, of course.

Hmmm. He couldn't have that much money left after what he'd poured into the bridge. He probably had enough to pay for a B-rank mission, or at most a C-rank, depending if he went to Kiri or Konoha. So, most likely a team of chūnin. Maybe a group of genin with one jōnin, if he got lucky. Best to be safe.

"Kaito, contact Mr. Momochi. Inform him that we will have need of his services. The previously negotiated terms should be satisfactory."

"Yes, Gatō-dono," his assistant said, bowing. "Should I also arrange the usual retirement package?"

"No, don't bother. Not for a ninja like that. No need to throw away our men's lives pointlessly. Do you know how much it costs to recruit and outfit two dozen men? Of course you do; you handle that kind of thing."

"Indeed."

"Hmmm, no. We'll have to do this a little more cautiously. Procure several of the high-draw compound bows the Land of Iron has just begun selling. Find the best, let's say dozen, shots among the men and set them to practicing. I'll have more specific orders for them closer to the date."

"Very good, sir. Was there anything else…?" Kaito glanced at the tortured man that lay between them. "Should I send someone to clean up here?"

"That will be all for now. I'm not quite done here. Send one of the cleaners by in a couple hours."

"Of course, sir."

Gatō watched his assistant leave, thanking whatever karmic misunderstanding had sent the man to him. Good help was hard to find, and great help—

His thoughts were interrupted by a wet, coughing sound. How rude. He nudged the gurgling man with his foot.

"You'll have to speak a little more clearly than that if you want me to understand you."

The fisherman spat the blood out of his mouth. "What…more…do…you…want…from…me? I…already…told…all…that…"

"Well, of course you did. You were very cooperative. Much appreciated. Our business is, indeed, concluded." Gatō smiled, baring his teeth. "Unfortunately for you, that means it's time for pleasure."

Gatō reached for a small curved knife—his favorite—as the screams resumed.

He loved his job.

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* * *

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_Yes, I know they're ostensibly speaking Japanese and the malapropisms Naruto uses should be words that sound similar in Japanese, not English, but since the semantic content of those words doesn't actually matter to the story, I let it go. I almost looked up the Japanese words, but that was a little too far down the rabbit hole, even for me. Besides, that would've made it unclear to everyone who didn't speak both Japanese and English why he was using the words he did. _

_You get PTSD! And you get PTSD! Everybody gets PTSD!_

_Gatō in this story only shares his history, amorality, sadism and financial greed with his canon counterpart. It seemed a little strange to me that someone as stupid as him could be successful at anything, let alone subjugating an entire nation, so I made him somewhat more competent._


	9. Chapter 9: Bells, Part I

**A/N:**

**On Chapters****: **This chapter ran long, so I cut it in half. The second half will be posted Friday, April 10th at 19:00 EDT.

**Disclaimer:** This is my Kishimoto. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My Kishimoto is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. My Kishimoto, without me, is useless. Without my Kishimoto, I am useless.

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* * *

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**Chapter 9: For Whom the Bells Toll, Part I  
**

Team 7 was at training ground 12 at the crack of dawn.

Team 7's sensei was nowhere to be seen.

I had expected that, of course. Kakashi's struggle with punctuality was one of his defining features. Naruto, on the other hand, had not expected it.

"What a jerk! He told us to be here early, but he's not even here himself! I bet he's still sleeping in, that lazy, one-eyed…."

Sasuke stood off to the side, leaning against a tree. He was sneering at Naruto's monologue, but the rigidity with which he held himself implied annoyance of his own.

"Maybe the test has already started," I said. "He could be watching us right now." It was pretty unlikely, but it _could_ be the case.

Both boys immediately dropped into taijutsu stances, looking around wildly. Well, Sasuke assumed a taijutsu stance. Naruto just kind of crouched with his arms up. I bit back a sigh. I had tried several times to correct Naruto's abject taijutsu technique but hadn't had much success. It was far from my area of expertise, and my teaching style was a little too…staid for Naruto's tastes anyway. Hopefully Kakashi would have an easier time of it. Something to worry about later, in any case.

"If he were going to attack us out of nowhere like that, he probably would have already," I said. "I find it more likely he's waiting to see if we'll waste this time or use it to plan and prepare." In retrospect, we should have hashed out our plans the day before, in case Kakashi didn't give us this time. I'd been focused on my own preparations, however, and by the time I'd realized that, Naruto and Sasuke had already disappeared to their own pursuits.

"But, if we make a plan now, while he's listening…" Naruto said.

"Well, we don't actually know that he _is_ here. But you're right, we should act as if he is. Don't worry, though: I have something to deal with that problem."

I drew out the short, straight wooden rod I used for drawing in dirt and scratched out a circle around us. That done, I drew a variation on the silence seal I used on my bed. The circle wasn't strictly necessary, but giving the seal an easy reference for the space to be covered allowed me to simplify it somewhat. It also made it obvious where it actually ended. The ambient sounds of Konoha cut off as I finished the seal and pushed some of my chakra into it.

Naruto gazed around, wonder plain on his face. "I never realized how loud everything…"

I beckoned Sasuke over, pointing with my other hand between my ear and my mouth. I could have pretty easily made the seal large enough to reach where he was, but I disliked how he was holding himself apart from the two of us. The physical distance underscored the emotional distance, something I did not want emphasized right before a test of teamwork.

He stopped before the line, mouth moving. After a second he stepped forward. "—t hear me."

"No, we couldn't," I said. "Sorry. I haven't been able to make it one-way yet. Trying to do so imbalanced the—never mind. We need to figure out how we're going to deal with Kakashi. I find it unlikely that this will be a straight-up fight, given the skill disparity. More likely we'll be given some objectives to complete, while he opposes us."

Naruto shook himself, refocusing on the conversation. "Then why try to plan now?"

"We can still lay out some general tactics and methods that would be universal to us facing him. For example, we should each try to play to our strengths and rely on each other to make up for our shortcomings."

Sasuke smiled cruelly. "So, Dead Last should focus on failing? I'll be sure to rely on him for that."

Naruto's face reddened. "And Teme should aim to be an arrogant asshole? I don't think that will be a problem!"

I resisted the urge to rub my temples. "You both have skills that we will need if we want to succeed. Sasuke, of the three of us, your taijutsu is by far the best; any direct confrontation should be handled by you. That being said, Kakashi's taijutsu is undoubtedly much better. Naruto, he'll need support from both of us. If you make a bunch of clones and use them to distract Kakashi, I have a number of seals that could…" I trailed off as I noticed the two angry stares being sent my way. Naruto and Sasuke spoke at the same time:

"You think he's way better than—"

"You think I _need_ you to—"

They cut themselves off and glared at each other. Sasuke broke the silence first. "Just—stay out of my way and I won't have to hurt you." He turned and left.

"Wait, Sasuke!" I called after him, but he'd already passed beyond the edge of the seal.

I'd taken two steps to follow when Naruto spoke. "Of course you chase after him!"

I turned back to face him. "No, Naruto, it's not like that—" but he was already gone.

I took two steps after him as well, but hesitated, looking back the way Sasuke had left. Which of them would I have a better chance of calming down? Naruto was more emotional and volatile, but I had a much closer bond with him than I did with Sasuke, at least in recent years. Could I actually go after either of them? Choosing one would snub the other. Bah, what idiocy. Why couldn't everyone just get along? Or at least talk things over instead of running off?

I flopped to the ground, frustration mounting. It was my own fault, really. I should have chosen my words more carefully. I'd been too focused on the problem of beating Kakashi as a team, rather than on the problem of being a team so we could beat Kakashi. I'd known there would be friction and that I would need to be the lubricant, but I had underestimated their emotional instability. Kind of stupid, in retrospect, given their psychological profiles.

This antagonism was par for the course for Sasuke, but it was a little uncharacteristic of Naruto. Sure, he went for the occasional sulk, but it was usually over something more substantial. Then again, that last thing he'd said…frustration about Sakura? Inferiority complex vis–à–vis Sasuke? I knew that both of those were things he was dealing with, but this was a very unfortunate time for them to manifest. Oh well. One good thing about the mercurial of mood was the speed with which they returned to their normal. The few hours before Kakashi showed up should give him time to cool off.

I scuffed away the silence seal and pulled a book from my bag. I sat, staring at the pages, trying to figure out how to put my fledgling team back together. Or, failing that, how to fool Kakashi into thinking we were a team long enough for him to pass us.

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* * *

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"You know, I could have sworn that there were three people on Team 7 yesterday, not just one."

I looked up from my book to see Kakashi slouching against a tree. _Damn_, he was quiet. And that was the same tree Sasuke had been leaning against earlier. Did that mean that he really _had_ been—

"Snapped and killed your teammates already? That's gotta be some kind of record. Surprised it was you, too; I had the Uchiha pegged as the one for that kind of thing."

I started. Teammate killing… Was he trying to tell me something about Rin? Or Itachi? No, that made no sense. Humor as a coping mechanism: much more likely. He thought I was a fresh, naive genin and was playing the role of aloof, rough-edged superior. He was also probably trying to push my buttons. Maybe trying to see if I would defend Sasuke.

"Sasuke would never turn on his friends like that." Technically true: there were circumstances in which he would turn on his friends, but I was pretty sure none of them were him "snapping". Also, he probably did not consider me or Naruto his friends at the moment. Minor details. "He and Naruto were not particularly enthused about sitting around waiting for hours. They're almost certainly around here somewhere." Also technically true. That they had scattered due to strife rather than boredom was another detail Kakashi didn't need to know right now.

He favored me with a long look before pulling a whistle out of his jacket and giving it a blow. Thirty seconds later, Team 7 was assembled.

"You're late!" Naruto yelled.

"I had to help my neighbor move. Then they decided they didn't like the new place and I had to help them move back."

"Liar! I bet you were—"

"Your test begins now," Kakashi said, over Naruto's yells. "You have until noon to take these two bells from me." He took out two small bells, the size of grapes, and hooked their ropes over his belt. "Lethal force is authorized; you'll stand no chance against me without the intent to kill. Anyone who doesn't get a bell goes back to the academy." He looked at Naruto. "Or to the genin corps."

"Two bells? But there are three of us!"

"Yes, Naruto. At least one of you will fail. My money's on you. Ta ta." There was a small puff of smoke and a log stood where Kakashi had a second earlier.

"That bastard! I'll show him!" Naruto turned to face Sasuke and me. "And I'll show _you_ who's the way better ninja."

Sasuke said nothing, but his smirk spoke volumes.

"The only way we're going to succeed is to work together," I said, trying to keep my exasperation out of my voice. "I'll let you two have the bells. I don't mind going back to the academy; many of my skills need more work anyway. Try on your own at first if you like, but teamwork is our only chance."

At least they waited until I finished talking before running off this time. Sasuke disappeared into the undergrowth, while Naruto charged towards the nearest clearing, yelling for Kakashi to "come out and face [him] like a man".

I hid myself in the branches of a tall tree, one that gave me a fairly good vantage over the surrounding area. I henged my clothes, skin and hair into a mottled green and brown color that would blend in with the foliage. I spread some bunshin around in other nearby hiding spots, and left one in the open, looking forlornly after her departed teammates. There was a pretty good chance that trying to hide from a jōnin was pointless, but I figured I should at least make a token effort.

I settled in to wait and watch. I wanted to judge Kakashi's level of engagement before I did anything. He had called for lethal force, but he probably wasn't expecting explosive tags, certainly not on the scale I'd seeded the grounds with. If he were paying attention he would almost certainly be fine, but if I caught him napping there was a chance he would be mortally injured. I did _not_ want to be the genin who blew up her sensei.

Naruto was still running around, yelling for Kakashi to come fight him. He'd started searching through the large bush clusters that surrounded the clearing, disappearing into them for a few seconds before emerging, covered in leaves, and barreling into the next one. I was a little disappointed; I had spent a fair bit of time over the years trying to teach him to think creatively and not just charge headfirst into things. I knew he was riled up and probably not thinking that straight, but that was another thing we'd talked about at length. Had he not been listening at all?

Kakashi's voice broke into my reverie. It was at regular speaking volume, but was pitched to carry. "Back in my day, the Academy taught a little something called stealth. Has that been taken off the curriculum? Hmmm, no, your teammates seem to understand it. The basics, at least. Perhaps you slept through that lesson."

He jumped down from the top of a nearby tree, knees flexing as he landed in the middle of the clearing. "Since your education was apparently lacking, I suppose it's up to me to correct that. We'll begin with taijutsu." He settled into the academy stance, hand outstretched in a "come and get me" motion.

Naruto stood at the edge of the clearing where he'd been looking upwards, evidently contemplating searching the trees after having exhausted the bushes. Upon seeing the object of his pursuit he gave a shout and ran straight at Kakashi.

"Lesson 1: Don't run straight at your opponent," Kakashi said as he sidestepped Naruto. "Lesson 2: Don't let people get behind you." He followed Naruto as the younger ninja passed him, and struck Naruto in the back. As his first made contact, Naruto vanished.

There was a beat of confused silence, then yells filled the clearing and a sea of orange flowed out of the bushes. Many of Naruto's clones did not match him exactly (some were too short, some too tall, some had too much hair, one had no hair at all), but most of them were close enough to be indistinguishable at a glance.

They charged at Kakashi, headed straight for the bells at his waist. He ignored the more obviously fake ones but still had to dodge and disperse the rest. He became a blur, and clones began popping by the dozens.

How had so many fit into the bushes? There was no way they could've held the hundreds of clones now rushing Kakashi. I wondered…would clones destroy each other on contact? They had no corporeal form; did that mean they could be stacked on top of each other indefinitely? I filed that away as something to investigate later.

It was a pretty good plan, all things considered. Regular clones might even be better here than shadow clones would have been, since Kakashi couldn't let any of them reach the bells, on the off chance they were real. He could disperse them all trivially easily with ninjutsu, of course, but so long as he was confining himself to taijutsu this was a serviceable distraction. But it would do nothing unless the real Naruto…

I stifled a laugh. Among the mass of Narutos in sparkling orange jumpsuits stood one who was still covered in leaves and twigs. Kakashi couldn't see him through the throng, but he'd be visible soon enough. He was circling around to get behind the jōnin: I guess he'd taken his second lesson to heart.

As he was moving to get into position a line of clones popped, Kakashi moved a foot to the side, and a handful of shuriken buried themselves in a tree. Naruto's yelps reached my ears and I corrected myself: most of a handful of shuriken buried themselves in a tree.

"You bastard! I'm supposed to be on your team!"

Sasuke's voice came from the other side of the clearing, "And I said stay out of my way and I won't hurt you!"

Kakashi stood in the middle of the clearing, laughing. He had stopped fighting the clones, who were still throwing themselves at him, dispersing on contact. That was a risky move on his part: had this had been a ruse, the bells could have been freely snatched. I suppose he judged Naruto incapable of this level of deception. Or maybe he judged us incapable of this level of coordination. Either way, he was right.

I felt my earlier frustration returning. The current situation was very similar to one of the plans I'd made for us to attempt as a team. Of course, in my version I would have been henged to match the clones and would be grabbing the bells right about now. Judging by Kakashi's lack of defense, it would have worked, too.

"Well then, boys and girl, I guess it's time to move on to our second subject. Ninjutsu." As he spoke, Kakashi's hands flashed through a series of seals and a roaring wind rushed through the forest. The clones dispersed as the gale reached them. Naruto was left standing alone, blood running dripping from his right hand, Sasuke's red-tinged shuriken held in his left.

While the wind had blown around the whole area, the focus of its fury had been the bush from which Sasuke's voice had originated. Where the other bushes had been buffeted by the wind, losing the occasional leaf, his hiding place had been completely defoliated, revealing a somewhat worse-for-wear Uchiha. He was covered in leaves, twigs, and forest detritus. His hair, normally so carefully coiffed, stuck out madly in every direction. His expression promised murder, just as soon as he could disentangle himself from the branches that encircled him.

I couldn't help myself; I burst out laughing. Kakashi disappeared from the clearing below and, a second later, appeared on the branch across from me. I half-expected him to say something melodramatic—those who laugh at the rules are trash, those who laugh at their comrades are worse than trash!—but he just reached out and gave my shoulder a gentle push. I tried to dodge, but my perch was precarious and I overbalanced backwards.

I kicked away from the tree as I fell, to ensure that my descent avoided the lower branches. Kakashi returned to the ground as fast as he'd climbed up, presumably to catch me: a fall from that height could easily be fatal for a ninja who landed improperly, as it looked like I was going to. Appearances could be deceiving, however.

Just before reaching him, I activated my speed seal and reached over my shoulders, grabbing ahold of my cloak, using it to slow myself. Decelerating against my cloak was a technique I'd practiced a few times. I couldn't pull too hard or I'd tear my arm muscles, but so long as I was careful I could change my momentum pretty drastically.

Once I'd ditched most of my speed I threw my upper body forward, reaching for the bells. Kakashi's eye slowly (from my perspective) widened as I passed between his outstretched hands. He started to throw himself backwards, drawing his hips away from my grasping fingers. It hardly seemed fair; even with my speed seal active, he was still moving at a speed I would consider normal for most people.

My fingertips grazed metal, but I was too far to make the snatch. I deactivated the seal as the ground rapidly approached. I tucked myself into a roll to redirect my momentum and came up in a taijutsu stance, face-to-face with Kakashi. _Shit. _I threw myself to the side: I could not afford to be in close with him, at least not until my speed seal had recharged.

I crossed over an invisible line in the dirt. As I did so I searched through the chakra signatures I was holding in my head. _There_. I released the seal and an intangible barrier popped into existence. Kakashi chased after me, hand darting out. His hand slammed into the barrier and he drew back, eyebrow rising.

There were a few different ways one could get through a barrier seal. Someone who could sense the exact chakra patterns (and had excellent chakra control) could push their chakra out in an opposite pattern, canceling the barrier out. The seals themselves are frequently vulnerable to attack. The seals can be waited out.

There's one way that's much easier than the others, however. It's only possible if there's a large disparity in power between the sealer and the person trying to get through, but in that case—Kakashi coiled his muscles and launched himself forward like a spear, arm extended over his head—they can punch right through.

As Kakashi came through my first barrier, I crossed over and activated another, a few feet further back. My barriers were clearly not enough to keep him at bay. I searched through the other index I held in my mind, and an explosion blossomed at Kakashi's feet. Flames and the shrapnel came rushing at me, but the barrier protected me.

As the smoke cleared, I cursed myself for a fool. I'd been treating this fight like a normal one, in which I needed to deny my opponent every opportunity to attack me, because they would and I was a delicate flower. That was distinctly _not_ this fight, which Kakashi could end pretty much any time he chose. His attacks were aimed to annoy, not maim or kill, so they didn't need to be avoided with that much fervor. And, in my haste to keep him off me, I'd done something kind of dumb.

He had escaped the blast, of course. He was now on the other side of the clearing engaging Naruto, not a mark on him. What I hadn't noticed in my frantic rush was that Sasuke had been approaching him from behind. The last of the Uchiha was now standing across from me, looking significantly more, er, _well done_ than usual.

I was trying to figure out what to say to him—"oops, didn't see you there" was a little underwhelming—when Naruto gave a yell and charged at Kakashi once more. A quick foot movement, a shifting of weight, and Naruto was flying towards me. The two of us went down in a heap, and the fight went downhill from there.

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* * *

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_Just a general note: Don't expect all the characters to speak with perfect grammar, phrasing or word choice. Naruto in particular will use awkward phrasings and incorrect words when the narration is in his voice and when he speaks. If you notice flat-out mistakes, please (please!) point them out to me and I'll fix them, but things like the malapropisms in the last chapter were very much intentional. On the other hand, any issues at all that you see in the non-interlude __narration, please let me know. It's in Ami's voice, yes, but she's supposed to have a relatively flawless grasp of language, so any mistakes there are definitely not intentional._


	10. Chapter 10: Bells, Part II

**A/N:**

**Disclaimer:** The key to strategy is not to choose a path to Kishimoto, but to choose so that all paths lead to Kishimoto.

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* * *

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**Chapter 10: For Whom The Bells Toll, Part II**

The hour that followed was one of the most frustrating of my life. It wasn't that he was so much stronger than us, though he was. It wasn't the collection of scrapes, bruises, burns, cuts and over-strained muscles we were accruing, though those did hurt. It wasn't even that we'd been given a Sisyphean task, though (for our current skill level) we had. It was how badly we were failing as a team.

Everywhere we turned we tripped over each other. Sasuke embedded another shuriken in Naruto, and singed me with the edge of a fireball. He was trying to hit Kakashi whenever the jōnin was distracted, which unfortunately was usually when Naruto or I was next to him. Naruto attacked Kakashi with reckless abandon, and his lack of control meant that he hit us more than he hit Kakashi. He tried the clone army a few more times, with no more success. Sasuke and I tried to henge to match him and blend in, but the bunshin weren't coordinating with us so we left a trail of popped clones wherever we went, completely eliminating the point of the tactic. I tried to support them with my barriers and explosions, but lacking a coordinated plan and never having practiced it together, I ended up hindering as often as I helped.

I wished I had more to contribute, but of the six combat-applicable seals I'd learned (exploding, storage, knockout, chakra-draining, barrier) only exploding and barrier seals were useful here. Storage seals were really only combat-useful for bukijutsu users (I had a few ideas for other applications, but they required testing, and a cooperative team). Knockout tags took several seconds to activate, depending on the strength of the target, and there was no way we could subdue Kakashi for that long. Chakra-draining seals would be basically useless: while Kakashi's chakra pool was on the low side for a jōnin, it was still orders of magnitude larger than the amount my rudimentary seals could sap.

Kakashi deflected Naruto once more, and we went down together again. This clearly wasn't working, and it was time to try something new. If Naruto and Sasuke couldn't see the futility of acting as individuals by now, they weren't going to. Kakashi had disappeared into the forest, probably intending for us to repeat the "search aimlessly for Kakashi until he ambushes one of us" phase of the test.

It was time for a little team bonding. I grabbed Naruto, who was still a little dazed, by the hand and pulled him over to where Sasuke was standing.

"What are you—"

I held up my hand, cutting Sasuke off. "Wait". I began drawing the silence seal again. As I drew I considered the coming conversation. I really had four problems: Naruto was mad about something I'd said, Sasuke was mad about something I'd said, Sasuke was anathema to Naruto, and that people were anathema to Sasuke. I needed to tailor my approach to solve all those issues.

Apologetic and reconciliatory? Almost certainly wouldn't work. Would leave them too much leeway, which they would probably use to fight with each other. Sasuke was unlikely to listen to anyone who, in his eyes, placed themselves below him, which I would have to do to apologize sincerely. Besides, I was somewhat mad and unsure I could really pull off contrite just then.

Calm and logical? Possible but doubtful. Appeals to logos were not particularly effective against Naruto: ethos and pathos were the way to go with him. Sasuke would likely feel like he was being talked down to, and get defensive.

Enthusiastic and team-focused? Too much frustration and antagonism in the air for that.

Angry and accusatory? Could work. High risk, but potential high reward. Emotions were running high, issues needed to be addressed. Would need to be combined with logic and enthusiasm, and probably flattery. Tear them down, build them back up. Best chance.

I finished drawing the seal, activated it, and rose to my feet.

"What the fuck is _wrong_ with you two? Do you realize how important this test is? Sasuke, failure here means another year wasted at the academy, shackled to children who are learning to crawl while you're trying to run. Do you think you'll get a jōnin of this caliber the second time through? I sure don't; I'm not sure another jōnin of his caliber _exists_ in Konoha.

"Naruto, if you fail here you're not even going back to the academy, you're going to the genin corps. I know you think that just means that you'd be the first genin ever named Hokage, but I do not have the words to describe how much you would hate it. Fiercely hierarchical and disciplined, with little time allowed for training. Most of your time spent trying to look impressive, or waiting for nothing to happen.

"So I said some things that made the two of you mad. Get over it. It wouldn't have bothered you nearly as much if what I said weren't true. Naruto, Sasuke _is_ way better than you at taijutsu. That's nothing to be ashamed of. He's had excellent teachers and sparring partners for most of his life. On top of that, he has an Uchiha's speed and reflexes. He's way better than pretty much everyone our age. Big woop. You have many advantages he does not, though you haven't had a chance to see most of them yet. Do you think he could have created half as many clones as you did? Do you think he'd still be walking, let alone fighting, after taking as much of a beating as you have over the past hour? I know I wouldn't be.

"And _you_, Sasuke. You think you don't need anyone to survive? I have a question for you: Have you ever worked a farm? Built a house? Forged a shuriken? Didn't think so. You rely on people every day; interdependence is the cornerstone of modern society. More specifically, how could you for a second imagine you could beat Kakashi by yourself? I know what you train for, and I honestly believe you will reach that level. Surpass it, even. _Someday_. Someday you will be able to take Kakashi on alone and emerge victorious, but that is _not_ this day. Not by a long shot. You could be—no, you _will_ be a great ninja someday, if you make it that far, which you never will on your own."

He opened his mouth to respond, but I held up my hand. "No, please, let me finish." Now, where was I? Right. "On top of that, have you ever considered that Itachi might not be alone when you seek him out? Ninja have a tendency to congregate. You might be able to beat him in a few years, but defeating him and whoever is with him? Unlikely. Ninja like him, his allies are probably S-class too. You _will_ need help. I…"—my thoughts skipped, as they always did when I thought of the incident—"I made you a promise once, and I intend to keep it."

I turned back to face the two of them together. "You both have so much potential it's not even fair, and it hurts to see you squandering it with your squabbles. We've grown up in a time of peace, but it is a fragile peace, and the cracks are beginning to show. Iwa is agitating along our borders, Oto is expanding aggressively, and reports out of Ame and Kiri are incredibly worrying. The number of A- and S-rank missing-nin is higher than it has been at any time in recorded history. War is brewing, and if Konoha is to survive, it will need the two of you.

"In a decade or two you'll be the strongest ninja around and it won't matter if you try to do everything yourselves. We don't have that kind of time. With your current attitudes I'd give you a year, maybe two at the outside, before you die a lonely and inglorious death. You could become some of the greatest ninja ever to come out of Konoha—nay, out of any ninja village—but that's only going to happen if you learn to work with others, and it's only going to start over the next year if we figure out how to work together _right now_.

My words hung in the air for a few seconds. I thought over what I'd said. I hadn't meant to build them up quite _that_ much. Oh well. Naruto needed someone to acknowledge and believe in him. Sasuke needed support in his quest, and an idea of a life beyond the ending of his brother's. It had the added benefit of being true.

"Do you…do you really think I'm capable of that?" Naruto's voice wavered. Tears and snot were running down his face. Aw, jeez. I hadn't expected quite that emotional a response. Still, I was committed now.

"I think that, in time, each of you will have the strength to rule the world if you so chose. Together, you could remake it in your image."

He gave a small cry and jumped forward. I stifled my instincts and didn't dodge as he wrapped me in a tight hug.

"Gentle, Naruto. I'm rather fond of my ability to breathe." He loosened his grip, and I looked over his shoulder at Sasuke.

His face was…confusing. He looked torn between condescension, amusement, relief, and…pain? He noticed my gaze and refocused, though he still wasn't meeting my eyes. "Well that was…something. I noticed you didn't mention how exactly we'd deal with the problem of two bells, three ninja."

"Ah, that." I shifted my weight and Naruto let go. He returned back to where he'd been standing, wiping his hands across his face. "You can have them. I'm almost positive this is actually a test of teamwork, not skill. I've racked my brain over the past hour, and I can't remember a single case where some of a team failed the jōnin-streaming-test while the rest passed. That, combined with the way the test was set-up to pit us against one another and how he's been playing us against each other makes me think this is actually a test to see whether or not we can work together.

"Succeeding would be a great coup if we could pull if off, but I'm pretty sure it's not what we need to do to pass. I'm confident enough in this guess to let you two have the bells if we do manage to grab them. Even if that weren't the case…I wouldn't get in the way of your development. Konoha is going to need your strength, both of your strengths, in the coming years. I wouldn't do anything to prevent or even delay your growth."

Naruto started sniffling again. Sasuke favored me with a long look. After a few seconds he nodded and met my eyes—briefly, before looking away again. It might have just been a trick of the light, but I could have sworn he smiled. "Well then, Supreme Leader. I'm going to guess you have a plan?"

"You could say that. Tell me what you guys think of…"

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* * *

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"Are you crazy? That will never work!" Sasuke's features had returned to their usual scowl. He ran his foot through the silence seal he stood over as he yelled, and the forest sounds returned. "I've heard enough. You can apologize all you want; you're worthless to me if you can't get me one of those bells." He disappeared back into the underbrush.

I looked over at Naruto. He scowled to match Sasuke. "I'm not going to work alone with a girl. Ewww. I'm just gonna go kick his ass myself!" He ran the opposite direction Sasuke had.

I was still gazing after them when Kakashi materialized beside me. "Don't worry about it, kid. Give him a few years. Then he'll be singing a different tune about girls, trust me."

I turned to face him. "You're an expert on the subject?"

"Not an expert, per se, but I've read a few instructional manuals." He smiled and reached for a pouch at his hip. "Here, let me show you!"

I was saved from permanent mental scarring by the timely appearance of a legion of Naruto clones.

"Oh, we're doing this again?" Kakashi said. "Some other time then." As he was doing up the clasp on his pouch I activated my speed seal and made a swipe for the bells. He danced away from me, grinning. "How rude! I think I'll go talk to Naruto instead." He darted away from me and began wading through the mass of Narutos.

I backed up to wait for a better chance as the clones continued to dash themselves upon Kakashi. My hands moved as I heard raised voices from the other side of the clearing.

"I am just so tired of your shit, Sasuke! You think you're so superior just 'cause you got some good grades!"

I stepped carefully.

"Of course the dead last claims not to care about grades. That explains your poor performance! That's not why I'm superior to you, anyway. Your…"

I tuned their voices out, watching Kakashi. He was smiling, ears cocked. He continued to defend against the clones, but his movements were sloppy now. Some made it through his one-handed defense. Suddenly, one of the clones he blocked did not disperse. The "Naruto clone" began moving much more fluidly and quickly, other hand nearly reaching the bells. Kakashi jumped backwards right as I activated a barrier. His back slammed into it and he bounced off, dashing to his left into another pile of clones as the now-black-haired Naruto pressed forward. Unfortunately for him, one of the Narutos staunchly refused to disappear.

I stepped forward from where I'd been standing, just next to Naruto, activating my speed seal. I let my henge lapse as I did so: Naruto's jumpsuit would interact poorly with the seal. My fingers closed around the bells right as Sasuke's did. We came away holding one bell each, faces flushed with success.

"Yes! We did it!" Naruto yelled, still mostly underneath our sensei. He pumped his fist in victory, seemingly forgetting where he was, and his arm slammed right into Kakashi's stomach. Who promptly vanished into a puff of smoke, along with the bells in our hands.

A slow clapping filled the clearing. "Bravo, bravo! Now, let's see if you can do it for real." Kakashi dropped down from a tree and walked through the forest of flummoxed clones to stand in front of us, hands on his hips.

I groaned in realization. _Shadow clone_.

Naruto looked between the jōnin and our empty hands. "But…we had the bells!"

"Sorry Naruto, I said you needed to take _these_ bells"—Kakashi gestured at his belt—"not ones that just happen to look exactly the same."

Sasuke glanced over at me, and I turned my gaze on Naruto. The three of us shared a quick look and, as one, charged forward.

—Kakashi jumped backwards, but I activated a tag. The explosion propelled him forward again, into Naruto's waiting arms, Sasuke's shuriken forcing him to dodge rather than engage Naruto fully—

—"Ami" took a direct hit from Kakashi and bounced back, fists swinging. "Naruto" dodged one of Kakashi's strikes, grabbing his hand and pulling it forward. "Sasuke" dashed forward to take advantage of the overextension, "his" speed briefly matching Kakashi's—

—"Are you crazy?" Sasuke asked me again, more sincerely this time.

"Don't worry. I've tried this before"—once—"and it worked fine," I said. My hands were stretched behind me to hold on to the lip of the large wooden box I'd prepared. My feet sat flat against the side. Sasuke did as instructed, lifting up one of the the ten-foot poles that stuck out the side. The box was rotated ninety degrees, so that the side I held onto was the lid. "Just hold me steady and aim."

"This is awesome!" Naruto yelled, holding the pole opposite Sasuke's. "Do you have one for me?"

"Next time, Naruto, I promise." I scanned the forest, looking for Kakashi. I adjusted my grip, making sure I was centered. "Get ready…"

"There!" Sasuke yelled, turning to point me towards the jōnin. He was standing in the middle of the clearing, looking over to where we were set up on the edge, bemusement plain on his face.

"I still think you're—"

I ignored him and let go. As I fell forward I activated the seals inscribed on the inside of the box. The resulting explosion had only one way to go: into the lid.

I let out a woop as I shot forward at breakneck speed. I grinned as Kakashi's eyes widened and activated my seal, reaching for the bells—

We still failed, of course. The skill gap was simply too large for anything short of a fatal error on Kakashi's part to allow otherwise. But now we were failing together. We misfired a few times, getting in each other's way, but that was to be expected of three genin who'd never practiced together. The frustration was gone, replaced by, if not camaraderie, then at least unity of purpose.

Noon came as we were trying a particularly harebrained scheme that involved Naruto henged as the Hokage, me as Kurenai, and Sasuke as Asuma, with clones taking our usual positions. Kakashi called us together and we gathered in the clearing, letting our henges fade.

Naruto, Sasuke and I were grinning, relatively secure in the knowledge that we had succeeded. The level of teamwork shown by canon Team 7 (if you could even call giving someone your lunch teamwork) was way, way less than what we'd demonstrated over the past hour or two. There was no way—

Kakashi looked between the three of us, his face grave. "You didn't get any of the bells. You"—his voice cracked on the 'f'—"fail. I'm…I'm sorry." And he was gone.

The three of us sat in stunned silence, waiting for him to come back. Surely this was just a bad joke, or perhaps the lead-up to a speech of some sort.

Seconds became minutes. Minutes became an hour. Sasuke and Naruto left at some point.

He didn't come back.

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_In the first version of this chapter, Kakashi got saved by the bell. While I enjoyed the pun, I remembered that I hate that trope (and the timing didn't really work out), so I changed it._

_I didn't actually get a chance to do the editing I expected to do today, so let me know if you see any mistakes, be they in consistency, continuity, or writing._


	11. Chapter 11: Bells, Part III

**A/N**

**On Chapter Endings**: You call them cliffhangers, I prefer to think of them as dramatically resonant moments.

**On Dirty, Rotten, No-Good Thieves**: This chapter was somewhat delayed by the theft of my laptop, both because I lost a version of it that was 90% written, and because I lacked a convenient place to write for a couple weeks. I didn't see the thief myself, but if you want to blame someone for the late update, eyewitnesses recommend a "tall, balding, old man".

**Disclaimer**: Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the Kishimoto. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.

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**Chapter 11: For Whom The Bells Toll, Part III**

What.

_What?!_

What the _fuck_?

How the…why did he…what?

I took a deep breath. I needed to calm down. It had been nearly two hours since Kakashi had left it was pretty clear he wouldn't be coming back. I was still lying in the clearing where our test had taken place, surrounded by the wreckage of derailed plans and shattered dreams.

_Pull yourself together._ I sat up and assumed the lotus position, focusing on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. I let my awareness flow into my chakra system. I saw my agitation reflected there as chakra swirled wildly throughout my body, all semblance of order destroyed. I set about restoring it to its usual smooth flow. I began in my head and worked downward, slowly feeling my equilibrium return. I found myself humming. _If you find your center, you will surely win._

Balance restored, I spent a few minutes just following the flow of my chakra, thoughts adrift. I used to spend hours a day like this, trying to get a feel for chakra, learning its texture and taste. When had I stopped? When had I decided my time was too valuable to spend like this? I resolved to set aside a few minutes each day; it would surely help with my mental health.

OK. On to the problem at hand.

Kakashi had failed us. Why?

What did I know?

Well, for starters, I knew that we deserved to have passed. The bell test was something Kakashi had learned from Minato, years before I'd shown up. There was no way my presence had messed up the time-line enough to make so that teamwork was not the actual purpose of the test.

I didn't know that much about the actual administrative process for passing/failing a genin team, but my understanding was that it was entirely at the discretion of the jōnin administering the test. I mean, the jōnin was the one who decided what the test was in the first place. They could easily assign a task they knew was impossible for their genin to succeed at (such as "take these bells from me"?). There had been stories about jōnin who had failed teams who had done what the jōnin asked, ostensibly because they didn't like the way it had been done.

If I were correct about that, it meant that Kakashi had been within his rights to fail us. But that still didn't answer the burning question: _Why?_ Why fail us when we had done so much better than our canon counterparts? He hadn't even had to bother with the tied-to-a-stump charade.

So, what did I know?

I knew that Kakashi had been conflicted. He had been barely able to look at us while he delivered his verdict. His usually smooth voice had cracked, and he had stumbled over his words. He had apologized. And he had run away immediately. Those could all have been signs of someone who found our performance lacking despite really wanting to pass us and being broken up about being the source of our disappointment, but I doubted it. In that case I would expect him to have stuck around and consoled us, or at least told us his reasoning. No, those were the actions of someone who was doing something they couldn't justify, but felt like they had to anyway.

And if it wasn't us, then it must be him. He had been somewhat different from canon Kakashi, at least from early-on canon Kakashi. Harsher, rougher around the edges, his darkness and cynicism closer to the surface. Why? It was possible this was just one of those things that differed from canon for reasons of world consistency, like the different rules about the academy jutsu. Perhaps someone who had been through all the hardship he had simply had to be more broken than the (relatively) carefree jōnin Kishimoto had written. Maybe something I'd changed (either directly or with the flapping of little wings) had affected him. He had been the one to "save" me from Itachi. Perhaps Itachi had said something, or some aspect of the confrontation had triggered something.

Fruitless line of speculation. Being able to pinpoint the cause(s) of the change(s) would make it easier to understand (and therefore influence) him, but there were simply too many possibilities with no way to narrow them down. I was better off focusing on what I knew.

The root of Kakashi's issues had been his father's suicide and the death of his teammates. Given our similarity to his old team, it was almost certainly the latter that was the problem here. Huh. Could it be that simple? Had he been afraid of failing us figuratively, so he'd failed us literally before he ever got the chance?

That _bloody coward_. I was going to—!

Calm down. That's what I was going to do. This was still salvageable, maybe, but it would require precision and deliberateness. Dispassion was my friend here, as much as I could muster. I was working off a couple assumptions and a guess, but it felt right. It rang true with his actions and what I knew of his character.

I needed to move fast. Every person he told was another barrier to changing his mind, another anchor tying him to his current position. Still, it hadn't been that long. People generally did not rush to tell others about things of which they were conflicted, guilty or ashamed.

I had a pretty good idea where he would be.

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The memorial stone was an austere stone slab, completely free of adornment. While such simplicity could have made it look cheap or unimportant, it didn't. Sitting alone on the hilltop, overlooking the graveyard below, it had a gravity and solemnity no ornamentation could have matched.

Well, not completely alone. Kakashi crouched in front of it, head turned to look at the graveyard where Rin was buried. I couldn't see his face from where I stood on the edge of the path, five or so paces behind him.

Neither of us spoke for several moments. I had much that I wanted to say, but I really had no idea how to start.

He broke the silence, speaking without turning around.

"Can I help you?" His voice held a combination of disbelief, annoyance and forced politeness, as if I were a bible salesman who had knocked on his door during Thanksgiving dinner.

"Yes, you can. Why did you fail us?"

"You're a smart girl. Is it really so hard to understand that if bell equals pass, no bell equals no pass?"

"You're a smart man. Is it really so hard to come up with a better explanation than that?" He turned and raised his eyebrow, so I continued."That's obviously not what the test was really about. You're so far above our level—so far above every fresh genin's level—that the only way we could actually get a bell is if you let us. It's unlikely that it was designed to test our proficiencies, as you'd get a much better idea of that from our academy files than you would from watching us flail around for three hours. Given how the test was set-up to pit us against one another—and the fact that I've never heard of part of a team passing—it's pretty evident the test was really one of teamwork."

"Very clever of you. Do you want a cookie?"

His flippancy was really starting to grate. It was pretty obvious he was trying to annoy me into leaving him alone, but I'd grown up with a little brother. He'd have to try a whole lot harder than that to get rid of me.

"What I want," I said, gritting my teeth, "Is for you to tell me why you destroyed our hopes, shattered our dreams, and deprived future-Konoha of a capable ninja team. Fail us if you must, but at least give me a real reason."

There was a pause, in which Kakashi held himself very stiffly. Finally, he spoke. "You weren't good enough."

Well, that was…unlikely. If I was right and it really was his hangups that were the problem, I needed to get him to admit it so we could deal with it. It was entirely possible—likely, even—that he hadn't even admitted it to himself yet.

"Really? We're not good enough? _That's_ what you're going with?" I shook my head in exaggerated disbelief. "Sasuke is a genius the likes of which Konoha hasn't seen since—his brother, or, well, you. As for Naruto, while he may be seriously lacking in a few areas, those are mostly a result of the neglect and abuse of the academy instructors. You've seen the depths of his chakra reserves, but you haven't yet seen the depth of his determination. Give him three months of proper instruction and he'll equal or surpass everyone in our class in almost every area. As for me, well, those two are skill and strength far in excess of what a genin team needs, so unless you're going to argue I'm actually a detriment, I can't see how you could say we aren't good enough.

"Have you ever had a team that was 'good enough'? Your record says no. I don't have the details of every team you've failed, but ninja are a pretty diverse group. I'd be willing to bet that the only common thread between all those teams was you. So tell me, Kakashi, why don't you think you're good enough to be a sensei?"

This was a relatively specious argument. The obvious counterpoint was that the actual thing all those teams had had in common was Kakashi as a tester, and that he just had high standards. Still, if I were right about my guess…

Kakashi jerked like I'd slapped him. "You think I'm not good enough?"

"That's not what I said. I said I think _you_ think you're not good enough. But even that isn't quite true, I was just echoing your earlier words. Truthfully, I think you're sad, and lonely, and scared, and think that you're damaged goods."

His eye flashed dangerously, but his voice remained level. "Alright, you got me. I'm a bad, bad man."

"Do you know why Obito was always late?" I asked him. "It's because he was constantly helping people. There's an old lady who lives near me who told me about 'that nice Uchiha boy' who carried her groceries every week without fail. Who are you helping with your cynicism, Kakashi? Do you even care?

"Do I even…" Kakashi disappeared and suddenly I was slammed backward into the memorial stone. He held me aloft with one hand, fingers wrapped loosely about my throat. His snarling face was inches from mine. "Do I even care!? I was being flippant to keep myself from lashing out at you! I bleed every second of every day for those I cared about. You stand there judging me, pretending you know me, know what I've been through. Where the fuck do you get off telling me what my problems are?"

I opened my mouth to respond indignantly when I met his eyes. His hitai had slid backwards when he'd moved, and half his Sharingan was visible.

-_Fingers around throat._

_Sharingan_

_"How? Tell me!"_

_Pain-_

I let out a small whimper against my will. Kakashi dropped me as if I'd turned white-hot and jumped backward, looking at his hand in some combination of disgust and horror. His other hand pulled his hitai back into its usual position.

I massaged my neck. Note to self: provoking emotionally unstable jōnin not conducive to good health.

"You think I don't know what hardship is like? That I don't know what it's like to wake up screaming every night, until you're so tired your waking hours become a nightmare to match your sleeping ones? Don't know what it's like to see the same faces everywhere, to have everything remind you of your weakest moment? Don't know what it's like to see the strain you put on those close to you, so that you withdraw from them rather than hurt them too? Don't know what it's like to hear empty words of comfort from people who mean well but whose every word just underscores how little they understand?

"How could I know what that's like: I'm just a silly little girl." I looked into his eye. "You don't have a monopoly on tragedy and pain, Kakashi, even if you've had far more than your fair share."

He gave me a long look. "If something happened to one of you because of my action or inaction…I don't think I'd survive it. I can't lose another teammate. Not after Obito and Rin."

"Surely you've had teammates die since then."

"I haven't _had_ teammates since then! I've had people I've worked with, but in my life I've only ever been on one team. And seeing the three of you together, remembering all that we were…picturing all that you could be, all that we could have been…"

"Do you really think we'd be safer in another year, less well trained, with a weaker sensei? Our team consists of:"—I held up fingers as I enumberated—"the last of the Uchiha, only known source of a pair of Sharingan; the son of the Yellow Flash, one of the most feared/hated ninja outside Konoha, who is coincidentally also the nine-tails jinchūriki; and a seals mistress." Fuinjutsu was rare enough—and transferably useful enough—that attempted kidnapping of its practitioners was not all that uncommon. "Our team is going to be a target no matter what happens. The way I see it, by failing us you're making it much more likely that 'something' happens to one of us. That is already your action and inaction.

"If you honestly think that we'll get a better teacher, or a stronger protector, then go ahead and fail us. If you truly believe that there is a better teacher in Konoha for Sasuke than Kakashi '_of the Sharingan_', that there is someone who can better teach Naruto to follow his father's footsteps than Minato's own star pupil, that I would be better taught by someone not my intellectual equal, then go ahead and pawn us off on someone else.

"But if not…don't abandon us. Please. We need you. The village needs you. And…I'm starting to think that you need us too."

The last sounds of my words faded and Kakashi and I were left in silence on the hilltop. Kakashi had moved to stand next to the memorial stone once more. He was gazing out over the graveyard, one hand resting on the stone.

I thought back over the words we'd exchanged. Had I said too much? Too little? I had gotten him to—mostly—admit why he'd failed us, but I'd also had to antagonize him. He could look past that, right? And, I mean, this was something he wanted to do anyway, he just needed a little help to recognize that. Right?

But…what if he still said no? I still had more to say, of course. I could argue about this until the cows arrived back home via random walk. But in my experience reversals of emotion-driven decisions usually happened quickly and dramatically, or not at all.

Without Kakashi as our sensei, not to mention another year at the academy, so much would be different. My foreknowledge would become much less useful. We wouldn't be in a position to help when the Suna invasion came. And what would Orochimaru do if Sasuke were still at the academy? And Naruto in the genin corps…would Jiraiya still teach him? And the summoning contract? And…

I could almost see all my plans, predictions, and hopes collapsing around me. So many hours of planning, years of preparation, potentially destroyed by a single moment of weakness from someone I had expected to be a pillar of strength. I had called him a bloody coward earlier, but that wasn't really fair. The amount of psychological trauma he'd undergone was frankly staggering. That he was still functional at all was a testament to his fortitude. I just wished he'd faltered a little later, after I was in a better position to support him. But if he now…

"So be it," Kakashi said quietly. "Welcome to Team 7, Ami."

My spiraling panic evaporated. Had I not been me and he not been him, I would probably have hugged him. As it was, I contented myself with a wide smile.

"That was a fairly…unconventional way of passing your genin test," he continued.

I bit back an angry retort. _Only because you made me_. I was a little wary of how quickly his mood had shifted. Still, if he was in a lighter mood…"Well, you know what they say: If at first you don't succeed, complain until you're given the prize anyway."

"Yes, quite," he said, amusement tinkling in his eye. "Though I think you'll find that adage less practical in the ninja world. How did you find out about Naruto's parentage and passenger?"

"Please. An orphan born under mysterious circumstances the night the Yondaime dies? Who is his spitting image? After his wife was pregnant? I'm honestly flabbergasted more people haven't put it together. Though I suppose it's a night few want to dwell on.

"Also, if they were trying to hide it, having him use Kushina's last name was probably not the best idea. As for his 'passenger': accelerated healing factor, vast chakra reserves, _whiskers_? Son of the previous host? If they didn't want us to figure it out, they probably shouldn't have left a book on jinchūriki in the open section of the library." Said book did, to my surprise, exist, although its information was vague and inaccurate enough that I was dubious anyone could actually use it to deduce Kurama's existence.

Kakashi gave me an appraising look. "You spill secrets very easily."

"They're not secrets to you. I think you mean to say that I _discover_ secrets very easily, which I wouldn't be able to do if they were better hidden."

"Fair enough. What do you think I should tell the other two? I have some ideas, but you know them better."

I thought for a second. "Tell them it was…a test of how they handled failure. Naruto won't question it; he'll just be happy to have passed. It might even teach him to be a little more questioning of authority figures, a lesson he desperately needs. Sasuke might suspect something, but he won't care.

There was a moment of awkward silence. Kakashi broke it first.

"Well, then. I would thank you, but I'm still not entirely convinced this is for the best. Only time will tell." He turned to leave.

"Wait! Kakashi, there's one more thing."

"That's Kakashi-sensei to you now."

I bowed my head. "Yes, sensei. It's…" I paused. Was this really the best time? I'd already pushed him pretty far today. On the other hand, he _had_ listened to me. And most of our interactions from this point forth would probably be in the mold of student and sensei, with him in the position of power. Once that pattern was ingrained in us it would be much harder for me to persuade him like this. In for a penny, in for a pound.

"I've spent a number of hours over the past year talking to people around the village, trying to find out everything I could about our prospective senseis." This was actually true, and I'd made sure I'd been seen by several people doing so, though I'd done it for less time than would account for all the knowledge I had. "There aren't that many retired ninja, but those there are are always happy to talk to youngsters about the good old days. You were of particular interest to me, both because of your…colorful past and the, in my estimation high, likelihood of your assignment to us.

"In my investigations I heard tell of two different Kakashis. The first was a genius the likes of which is rarely seen. He pushed himself to excel in every pursuit and frequently surprised both himself and everyone else with his successes. He could often be found training, and was seldom caught in a situation he hadn't planned for. He began as a cold and distant ninja, but over time he learned the compassion and love that binds Konoha together.

"The second Kakashi I heard about was a porn-addicted, constantly-distracted, perpetually-late mess." I unconsciously braced myself for another outburst, but Kakashi held himself still, single visible eye emotionlessly trained on me. "Even those he was closest to, with whom he spent the most time, said they rarely saw him fully engaged in whatever he was doing. Don't get me wrong: He was still an incredibly capable ninja. How could he not be, skills like he had? But he lacked the passion, the intensity, the drive that had made the other Kakashi so special.

"I truly believe that a few years spent with a team of his own would turn the latter Kakashi back into the former, but I'm not convinced we have a few years to spare." I paused for a second, searching for the right words.

Kakashi gave a hollow laugh in the silence. "You make it sound so easy."

I refound my tongue. "I realize it's not a choice you made, that there's no switch to flip, no magic button to press. All the same I feel compelled to ask.

"I think," I said quietly, "that you owe it to us to at least try. I think you owe it to your old team to give your all to your new one. I think that you owe it to"—he hadn't fully made up with Sakumo yet, had he? Best to avoid that, just in case—"Minato's memory to teach his son as well as you can. I think you owe it to the memory of—the Itachi that was Konoha's pride to protect his brother to the best of your abilities.

"Above all, I think you owe it to yourself. Your story is a heartbreaking one, and that's just the parts I know about. I somehow doubt the classified portions were any more cheerful. You've lost so much, sacrificed so much, that you deserve some happiness. If I thought you'd be happy settling down on a farm somewhere, that might be what I'd recommend for you. But that wouldn't make you happy, would it? Service and sacrifice are too ingrained in you to be blithely set aside.

"Instead, you need to move on. I'm not saying you need to forget your teammates, or their sacrifice. You couldn't if you tried. But you do need to accept the past. Whatever happened happened, and dwelling on it won't change anything. You need to stop looking back with Obito's Sharingan, and turn it instead to the future. So…yeah."

Seconds passed. Kakashi stood stock-still once more, eye unreadable. And then he did something I absolutely did not expect.

He _giggled_.

I was dumbfounded. What…?

"So, yeah? Hehehe…that's what you decided to end your speech with? Ahahaha." His giggles turned into full-on laughter. "Seriously? After all that, that's how you…hahaha." He drew himself up ramrod-straight, gesturing broadly, and declaimed, "You have been spat upon, knocked down, and robbed. But not today! Today you stand! Today you fight! Today…"

Heat rose in my cheeks as I recognized the closing lines of the climactic speech from Makoto: The Village of Sheep. It was a highly popular ninja film: the fourth "Makoto" movie, in which he comes across a farming village, derisively called 'the village of sheep' which is being terrorized by a gang of Samurai. Makoto teaches the farmers the ninja way, they drive off the samurai, and there is much rejoicing. Borderline-propaganda, but so are pretty much all ninja films. I was pretty sure I knew where Kakashi was going with this.

"…They came looking for the Village of Sheep, but they will find themselves in the Village of Wolves! So…"—he repeated the grand gesture—"yeah." He collapsed in another fit of laughter.

I almost said something, but decided to wait. This was possibly the best response I could have hoped for. I had said my piece, he had listened, and now we could move past it. He might take it to heart, he might not, but either way the tense situation had been diffused. Was he acting? I looked at him, still laughing hysterically. Probably not. Exaggerating, maybe.

He straightened, reaching up to wipe away a tear. "You talk a good talk, kid, but a couple elements of your, uh, rhetorical style, could use some work."

"So teach me," I said.

He smiled (I think—damn that mask!). "I'll see if I can fit that into your curriculum. As for the rest, I'll take your words under advisement, and I'll see you tomorrow at 9:00, training ground 6."

"At 9:00?" I asked.

He didn't respond, just kept smiling. He turned to leave once more but paused, looking back over his shoulder. "You know, for someone who talks about happiness so fervently, you could really stand to lighten up."

Then he was gone, and I was left to ponder his words, and the future.

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_Someone asked me about the fidelity of Ami's memories of Naruto canon. I'm writing her as someone who at the very least read the manga and watched the anime once, and probably read some FF too. I'm going to say she read/watched it not terribly long before being reborn (and has a world-class memory), thus she remembers pretty much all the important characters/events, and many of the more minor ones. She might get some details wrong. As for the memories fading over the twelve years of her second life, it is entirely in line with her character to have written out every bit of information (pun intended) that she remembered as soon as she got the manual dexterity to write, and to then review that information until it was cemented in her mind (and possibly to save some backups (written in English for security purposes, of course))._

_For any non-American-English speakers, "where do you get off" is American slang for "how dare you", "what's wrong with you", etc…Google Ngram shows it has some use in British English, but much more rarely. I try to avoid regionalisms as a general rule, but this one has exactly the feel I was going for, so it stayed in. To balance it out, I also used "bloody" as an intensifier, a uniquely British(/commonwealth) convention._

_You can't really see what's around the memorial stone in the manga (not in any shots I could find, at least), except that it's on a hill. A map of Konoha that I found placed the graveyard right next to it, so I decided that the graveyard was visible from it. That way when Kakashi visited the memorial stone, he was thinking about both Rin (buried in the graveyard but not on the stone (her not being on the stone is itself just conjecture based on that never being mentioned in the manga and her debatably not dying "on duty") and Obito (on the stone), not just Obito. _

_Ami spent a lot of the last two chapters talking up Naruto and Sasuke, but it was kind of necessary for convincing the people she was talking to. I swear this isn't going to devolve into one of those "everyone marvel over how awesome everybody else is" fics. _

_Ami also convinces some people relatively easily of some things in these two chapters. It's worth noting that they were things that each person knew they should have been doing anyway. I swear this isn't going to devolve into one of those fics where the protagonist goes around saying four words to each person and completely changes their worldview (See Talk no Jutsu)._


	12. Chapter 12: Team Again

**A/N:**

**Disclaimer:** All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are Kishimoto.

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**Chapter 12: Dynamically Allocated Teams**

It was 8:59 and there was no sign of Kakashi. The rest of team 7 was gathered at Training Ground 6, waiting with varying levels of patience. Naruto was being uncharacteristically quiet. Sasuke, on the other hand, was being characteristically quiet. I was engrossed in working on my rudimentary sensor abilities.

Every chakra user had the ability to sense chakra, though the range and precision of said ability varied immensely from person to person. I'd read reports of one ninja from Hashirama's era who could feel the exact position of every piece of chakra in the world, though he couldn't tell you a single thing about any of them aside from location. There were others who had very little range, some even requiring physical contact to use their abilities. My mother was like that. There tended to be a trade-off between range and precision, though there were rare individuals who had both.

The exact location of the line of demarcation between sensors and non-sensors was a matter of some debate, but that was semantics and I didn't care. There was general consensus that sensory abilities ran along bloodlines. I wasn't sure that this was actually true, as it was also understood that they required some amount of practice, and no one was going to waste time practicing something if they thought it was genetic. Plus, there were a number of cases of "spontaneous fundamental bloodline transfection" a.k.a. someone developing a sensory ability that their parents lacked (it turns out academics in Naruto's world shared many characteristics with those back home). I didn't really care about that either, as my mother's brand of sensing was exactly what I wanted.

She needed to be touching the person or object in question, but if she were she could tell the precise properties (intrinsic and extrinsic) of the chakra inside it. As far as sensor abilities went, it was one of the more common. I had initially disregarded it when deciding where to focus my efforts as it, while undeniably situationally useful, had relatively few combat applications. Now that I had figured some of the underlying rules of sealing, however…

If I could determine the exact chakra patterns that went into a given jutsu, I thought I could use seals to replicate it. Probably. In theory. If I were lucky. However, figuring out those patters would require a precision of sensing far greater than the usual. That would actually be less difficult for me than it sounded: as it turned out, I'd been practicing that brand of sensing on myself for much of my life.

All ninja could sense their own chakra, of course, but I'd just recently discovered that most had only a vague sense of it. They could tell approximately how much chakra they had, but knew nothing its disposition and little of its nature. They could direct their chakra, but the only way they knew it was obeying was by seeing results and by feeling their levels of free chakra decrease. The sense of my chakra system I'd cultivated during my backyard meditations was incomparably more discerning than that of my peers. I'd asked my mother about it, and she'd said that sounded similar to how her sensing had started.

I could sense my own chakra well enough that I could probably create a fūinjutsu version of one of the jutsu I knew—assuming the process was, in fact, possible. Problem was, I didn't know any particularly useful jutsu. Henge and Kawirimi could be useful, but the seal versions would share most of the shortcomings of the originals, so I gained little by committing them to paper. There would be some advantages, and I could probably obviate some of the drawbacks with time and effort, but I doubted it was worth it. Not as my first option. Developing the seal would likely be an extensive undertaking. If I were going to go to that much effort, I wanted it to be for something highly impactful. I had a jutsu in mind, but I knew I'd never be able to cast it myself. I had to learn to direct my senses outward.

Which brought us to that morning, at 8:59.

I was sitting in the lotus position, one of my explosive seals sitting on my lap. My eyes were closed, and my awareness was running along lines of ink and chakra. Mom and I had talked it over, and she'd said inanimate objects, particularly ones with my own chakra in them, would be easiest to start with. It was somewhat harder than turning inward, but manageable. It felt like using a muscle well-developed by playing one sport in the playing of another: the strength was there, but the balance was off, and everything felt just a little awkward.

I finished following the lines and took in the seal as a whole. I could feel the pent-up chakra humming, but it was restrained, directed, channeled by the seal. It was a beautiful 'sight', marred only by the geometric imperfections that were obvious from this perspective. I could feel them weakening the seal. There were many places where a line of varying thickness stopped the chakra from flowing smoothly, others where an inexact angle kept the crossing lines from properly supporting each other. I could even feel a number of spots where chakra was flowing out of the seal, escaping speck by speck. So that was why seals lost potency over time…did that mean a perfectly drawn seal would last forever? Was it even possible to draw a seal perfectly?

Ha! I'd had no idea this would be so useful for diagnosing my sealing. I should have tried this months ago!

And what was this troublesome bit, here? The chakra rose and fell erratically. A rough spot on the paper, perhaps? That might account for—

My eyes opened and my awareness returned to my body as the 9 o'clock bells began ringing. _Bong…Bong…Bong…_

On the ninth ring, Kakashi appeared. He took in the three of us sitting in front of him.

"What a bunch of serious genin. Smile, why don'tcha? You're ninja now." He let that hang in the air for a second before continuing, "And happy times for us in that profession are few and far between, so grab 'em while you can." He grinned, taking the bite from his grim words.

Still giddy from my sensing success, I smiled back freely. Naruto seemed confused at the indirect disparagement of his dream but smiled nonetheless. Sasuke scowled.

"Which segues us nicely into our first topic of discussion for today: what it means to be a ninja. Let's stretch while we talk, why don't we?" He dropped into the splits and leaned forward deeply, pressing his chest to his leg. I glanced at my bemused teammates before following suit. They joined us on the ground a split-second later.

"I guess I should start with a small correction. I called being a ninja a profession moments ago. While that is ostensibly true, it is akin to calling two swords an armory. To be a ninja is more even than a way of life. It _is_ your life. While you are on mission, every moment demands your attention. The second you slip up is the second you die.

"The time between missions is less stressful but no less critical, for that is when you prepare for the next mission. Recuperating, training, planning. This is a duty some ninja neglect, for which they—and often their teammates—usually pay the final price. Ninja only go off-duty once, and it is rarely a pleasant process." He brought his legs together, put his hands flat against the ground and arched his back into a bridge pose that would be the envy of any yoga instructor.

"You will notice I've already mentioned or alluded to death three times. That is no coincidence. Death is a constant companion for every ninja. You must be ready for it. Ready for your death, for the death of your enemies, for"—his eye flicked to me and away so fast I wasn't sure it had even moved—"the death of your friends. As well you not fear the loss of your lives, for they are no longer yours. They belong to Konoha now, and they will most likely be spent in her service." He kicked his legs over his head, passed through downward dog, spun around so he faced us and ended up in a lunge.

"They might be spent to buy a few more minutes, months, or years of peace. They might be exchanged for the lives of many others. They might be lost tragically and pointlessly, particularly likely if you don't listen to me. The point is that your lives belong to Konoha, and she was generous enough to lend them to me for the next few years.

"The life of a ninja is not all bad, of course. You'll be well compensated financially. You will, for the most part, be respected. Revered, even, beyond a certain point. You will be personally powerful, able to effect change by main force, if necessary. And, above all, you will be a part of something greater than yourselves. A glowing ember, or a dazzling spark, in Konoha's great fire." He drew his back leg up and sat down, pressing his feet together and leaning forward as he drew his feet into his groin.

"Of all the students I could have had from this year, you three probably need this speech the least. You are all, for your own reasons, highly motivated, and are already dedicated to the ninja life. You have already lost—"he looked at Sasuke and Naruto—"or suffered"—he looked at Naruto and me—"for Konoha. Still, it bears repeating and codifying.

"A ninja will…

And so it went, for the thirty or so minutes we stretched. I agreed with much of what he said, though he tended to use more dramatic language and evocative imagery than I would have. I wasn't a fan of the jingoism, though I recognized its practical importance for what was in essence a military force and nation rolled up into one.

We listened attentively, copying his stretches as he did them. None of us spoke. Kakashi had a sort of rhythm that made one not want to interrupt. Elements of what he said had been covered at the academy, but much more simply, sporadically, and gently. On top of that, there was his sheer _presence_. Gone was the unassuming, slouched layabout who'd tested us the day before. His bearing now screamed power and confidence, demanding attention.

I couldn't quite peg it at the time, but a couple weeks later I was able to confirm my suspicions when I got my hands on a video of Minato's swearing-in ceremony. Like so many do when they begin teaching, Kakashi was, subconsciously or not, emulating his first teacher. His posture, his mannerisms, even the way he pitched his voice, were very similar to the fourth Hokage's.

After we finished stretching, he started putting us through our paces. Taijutsu, weapon throwing, ninjutsu, genjutsu resistance, strength tests, endurance, speed, coordination, memory, he tested them all. At first he would just watch, but after a little while he would give small corrections. Nothing major—move a foot slightly, shift a grip here, keep eyes there—but small changes that helped. Given the emphasis that morning on diagnostics (and the scale of the corrections he would give us over the coming weeks) I'd guess that was him testing our ability to take instruction.

He pushed us to our limits. He seemed to know whenever we were holding back and would egg us on. Any time we started to get comfortable with an exercise he would up the ante, adding a new element or making the old ones harder.

We finally finished around four in the afternoon (lunch was eaten while balancing on one foot on a log, with Kakashi occasionally prodding us from unexpected directions). Sasuke and I flopped to the ground, bone-tired. Naruto sat beside us, and even he looked somewhat worn out.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" Kakashi stood in front of us, idly toying with the kunai we'd broken earlier.

We answered with exhausted groans. "Anything else you think you need to 'test'?" I asked. "You wanna draw some blood?"

"Of course not; I got plenty of samples while we were sparring."

Naruto looked so stricken that Kakashi burst out laughing. "That was a joke, kid. Guess recognizing insincerity is another thing we'll have to work on." His expression sobered, and he became teacher!Kakashi again. "So here's how this is going to work. Every day we'll begin with a lesson on some aspect of being a ninja, while we stretch. Some will be more of a lecture, like today's, others will be more of a symposium."

I noticed Naruto's confusion and said quickly, "Group discussion."

Kakashi gave me a nod and continued, "After that, there are a few different things we'll be spending our mornings on. I'll be showing you some exercises to practice on your own time. We'll go over those every day or two, make sure you're not forming any bad habits, see if you need more challenging versions.

"I'll also be teaching you new jutsu." Sasuke and Naruto perked up at that. "Some I will teach all of you: there is a battery of basic jutsu every ninja should know. Others will be individual, based on your elemental affinities, aptitudes and fighting styles. On that point, I'll be meeting with each of you over the next couple days to determine just what you want your fighting styles to be, and which techniques you most want to learn."

Naruto jumped up at that, interrupting for the first time all day. "I want to learn all the techniques!"

"Yes, well, sure. We'll just discuss which techniques you want to learn _first_."

"Oh, okay," he said, dropping back down to the ground.

"Where was I? Right. We'll also be working on some general ninja skills. Tracking, wilderness survival, the like. We'll aim to finish every morning with a short spar. All the skills in the world are no use if you don't know how to put them into practice. Tomorrow I'll go over how to spar usefully but safely.

"Afternoons will be spent doing D-rank missions, as mandated by Konoha's rules for fresh genin teams. D-ranks are relatively simple tasks: repair a roof, deliver some letters, etc. Their ostensible purpose is to teach you teamwork, but I think that's mostly an excuse for cheap labor. Regardless, we will complete them quickly, efficiently and completely. When the mission allows for it, I will be adding some additional…mission parameters. Keep things interesting. You'll find I can be"—he smiled maliciously—"very creative.

"Your evenings and early mornings will be your own. Here's where I would normally tell you to spend as much of your free time training, but given what I know of you three, I'm pretty sure you'll be doing that no matter what I say. Instead, I'll ask that you train intelligently. There are some things you can effectively practice by yourselves, but there are others for which practicing alone will at best do nothing and may even make you worse.

"A bad habit ingrained by practice is much, much more work to fix than it is to just get good habits in the first place. Besides that, unthinking repetition almost never leads to rapid improvement. If you're having trouble with something, you need to try approaching it a different way. Break it down, analyze the components, figure out what exactly it is you're struggling with and work on that. If you aren't struggling with something, figure out how you can take it to the next level. See what you excel at and focus on playing to those strengths. See what you have trouble with and practice covering those weaknesses.

"Unthinking training is one of the most detrimental things I see ninja—new and experienced alike—do. It's like…" He gestured, clearly searching for the right words.

"A week of hard work can sometimes save an hour of thought?" I said, repeating an old programmer's adage.

He chuckled. "Yeah, something like that. Anyway, that's our basic routine for the foreseeable future. Any questions?"

I didn't have any. It seemed very straightforward, and surprisingly well thought-out. I wondered how much of this was the general curriculum jōnin were given to follow (was there even one?), how much was Minato's teaching pattern, and how much was Kakashi's own innovation.

"No questions? Good. We still have a bit of time left today; I'm going to teach you the first of the aforementioned exercises." The three of us groaned in protest, though we still pulled ourselves to our feet. "Oh, calm down. This takes barely any chakra and isn't physically demanding at all. It's almost exclusively a matter of will and concentration."

He sidled over to a nearby tree and walked straight up the side.

"Cool!" yelled Naruto, charging at an adjacent tree. He made it about ten feet up, mostly through momentum, before falling off and landing roughly on his back.

"Dolt," Sasuke muttered.

Kakashi turned around and calmly walked back down. He looked over at Naruto who was now sizing up the tree like an adversary of unknown strength. "Exercises are generally made somewhat easier by knowing what you're supposed to be doing." He turned back to face us all. "This is known as tree-walking. Walking on walls—or any surface, for that matter—follows a similar principle, but trees are generally easiest to start with due to the roughness of their bark.

"This is a tremendously useful exercise for two reasons. It helps greatly with chakra control, something every ninja needs. Secondly, it is itself something you must become proficient at. You need to be able to run, jump, _fight_, on whatever surface you happen to find yourself on, or you will die to the first opponent who has even a spark of creativity. Not to mention that most ninja-travel through forests happens among the trees."

"The actual mechanism consists of pushing chakra out evenly from the soles of your feet. The bark will absorb the chakra, and—so long as you maintain a steady stream—will hold you to it. You should start out barefoot; it is possible wearing sandals but the additional barrier makes it more difficult. It is vital that you use the proper amount of chakra. Too little and you'll fall off. Using slightly too much isn't a problem, though it will use chakra—your most precious resource—faster than necessary. However, if you use way too much you will destroy the material under your feet. This will both knock you off and, depending on the material and how explosively it shatters, can seriously injure your lower body. Tree bark is relatively benign—the worst you'll get is a couple of splinters—but I still do not recommend it.

"At first you should just concentrate on being able to stand horizontally. Once you feel stable like that, you can try taking a step, increasing the chakra stream with one foot and releasing the other. Any questions? No? Good. Get started." He stepped back and gestured at the tree he'd climbed and the two next to it.

Naruto charged again. He made it a few feet further this time, though whether that was due to chakra usage or simply more speed I didn't know. Sasuke walked slowly up to his tree, placing one foot very deliberately on the trunk and jumping to put his other foot next to it. He held himself like that for about 5 seconds before he fell back down with a scowl. After a second of angry muttering, he tried again.

I walked over to Kakashi and spoke quietly, pitching my voice so the boys wouldn't hear. "You may want to take a look at Naruto's chakra while he does this. I'm not positive, but I believe that his passenger—or its chakra at least, I'm not sure how much agency it actually has—disrupts his techniques whenever he tries to do anything delicate." As I said that, a muffled thump and a short yelp came from Naruto's direction. I turned around to see him brushing bark bits off himself and pulling a large splinter out of his shin.

After admonishing a blushing Naruto, Kakashi turned back to me. "While your concern for your teammate is commendable and your suggestion is something I'll look into, don't you think you should be doing the exercise yourself?"

"Oh, well, uh…" It was my turn to blush. I walked over to my tree and walked up it. As I did, I wondered. Kakashi had seen me walk up the wall at the academy, why was he pretending he didn't know I could do this? Hmmm. Maybe he wanted to follow my lead for how to break it to the boys. They could have such delicate egos. That in mind, this might not have been the best approach. Oh, well, too late now.

Once I reached the top, I flipped off and landed in a crouch to find Naruto watching me open-mouthed. Sasuke was watching me with…pride? That couldn't be right. Jealousy? Anger? Confusion? Regret? He was so hard to read these days.

"That was awesome, Ami! Where'd you learn to do that?" Naruto was bouncing up and down, his earlier fatigue forgotten.

"Yes, quite. Would I be correct in assuming this is something you've practiced before?" Kakashi asked.

"Yeah, you could say that. I saw some ANBU doing it and it seemed like a useful thing to know, so I tried to teach myself how. I figured it would follow the same general principle as leaf-sticking. I failed the first…many…times I tried but, if you'll pardon the expression, I threw things at the wall until something stuck."

Kakashi look contemplative for a moment before turning back to face Naruto and Sasuke. "Alright you two, stop lallygagging. You clearly have some catching up to do, which won't happen with your feet on the ground." After they had returned to their practice, Kakashi turned back to me.

"So, what are your wall-walking proficiencies and deficiencies? Report."

The sanctity of the ninja report had been repeatedly drilled into us at the academy. Clarity, concision and completeness were valued above all else. I spoke as quickly and precisely as I could.

"I can walk and stand horizontally with a failure rate around zero. I am able to multi-task while doing so, though my speed at chakra-using actions is reduced by approximately twenty-five to fifty percent. Running is material-dependent, though only the smoothest surfaces still give me trouble. Calibrating for a material I have never encountered before takes anywhere from 3 to 30 seconds, depending on difficulty. My main limitation is my chakra pool. I have reduced my chakra consumption to the minimum possible, as far as I can tell, but I can still only maintain it for about an hour. Less on porous materials."

"Show me."

I started walking across the clearing towards the tree I'd used before, but he stopped me.

"Let's go find a more suitable tree for you, shall we?"

I raised my eyebrows as I fell into step beside him. Why the change of location?

He kept his voice low. "Seeing your chakra will require the use of my Sharingan, something I would rather not distract them"—he jerked his head backwards—"with at the moment."

We stopped next to a large oak a hundred feet or so down the path. I went to the indicated tree and walked up and down, paying careful attention to using the least amount of chakra possible. Kakashi slid his hitai up his forehead and activated his Sharingan, looking closely at my sandaled feet.

"Hmmm, that does seem to be pretty close to the maximal efficiency."

I dropped back to the ground, eyes on my feet. "I simply do not have very much chakra. Not sure if there's a work-around here. Maybe I can sit on Naruto's shoulders for long trips." I said this flippantly, but I was covering for a fairly deep worry. If I were unable to maintain my wall-or-water-walking, it would severely limit my usefulness in field missions (i.e. most missions), which could include extended periods away from solid ground.

Kakashi laughed at my apprehension. "You think you're the first ninja with an excess of control and a dearth of chakra? There are plenty of "work-around" methods. Give me a second to think about which one would fit you best." He looked upwards, and began making small pointing movements with his hands, as if picking, choosing, and discarding ideas.

Well. That was a nice surprise. I felt a blush returning to my cheeks at being laughed at. Damn this emotional 12-year-old body. I'd only recently "mastered" wall-walking, so I hadn't had much chance to research alternatives once I'd realized my troubles with it. The manga never mentioned any, though I suppose it never really dwelt on the technique at all beyond learning it.

"Yes, that should work," Kakashi said, refocusing his attention on me. "Am I correct in assuming that you have a fairly good sense of your own chakra?"

"Yes, you could say that."

"Good, that will help with this. Are you familiar with spiders' scopulae?"

"I count an Aburame among my friends. I am intimately familiar with most interesting parts of arthropod anatomy." I made a face. I wasn't actually disturbed by spiders or insects, not in the slightest, but it seemed like the thing to do.

Kakashi smiled. "Good. This technique operates on a similar principle. By extending a multitude of tiny chakra constructs out of your feet, you can stick to whatever surface you want, much as a spider sticks to a ceiling. This requires more chakra at any given moment than the traditional technique does, but since you're extending controlled chakra into the surface rather than pushing out chakra for it to absorb, most of the chakra used is recoverable. There will still be losses of course, unless you have perfect control, but they are orders of magnitude less than what you're losing now."

Really? That worked? But…scopulae worked by adhesion. Did that mean that chakra underwent van der Waals forces? Did chakra particles have dipoles? Did chakra even have particles? I thought the current consensus was that it acted like a wave. Did it exhibit wave-particle duality? But that would mean…

"That make sense to you? Hello?" Kakashi waved a hand in front of my face. "You okay?"

I blinked and shook my head to clear it. "What? Yeah, yeah. Just realizing that the physics of chakra make no sense whatsoever."

"You're only realizing that now? What do they even teach at the academy these days?" He shook his head critically. "Anyway, I'm going to go help those two now, before they manage to off themselves." The sounds of shouting reached us. "Or each other. Give that a shot and let me know how it goes. You can come join the rest of us if you prefer, though I would guess that for something delicate like this you'll do better with the quiet here than the combative atmosphere over there."

He turned to leave, but stopped as I held up my hand.

"Kakashi, I…" I almost apologized for the verbal lashing I'd given him the day before, but something in his eye warned me not to. I changed tacks. "Thanks. For…" I waved my hand vaguely, indicating everything around us.

"Don't mention it." He paused briefly. "Seriously, please never mention it again. I'm your sensei. You're part of my team. This is just how it is."

I nodded and he headed off again, whistling tunelessly.

I turned back to the tree, kicked off my sandals, and prepared to do my best arachnid impression:

_With great power comes great responsibility._

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_Just in case anyone thinks the "mom is a sensor" thing came out of nowhere, it is briefly mentioned in Chapter 1, though the details were never fleshed out._

_For Kakashi emulating Minato, people copying their first (or most influential) teacher is a documented phenomenon. I figured that Kakashi's Sharingan would make it so that he would also have perfect recollection of Minato's bearing and mannerisms, so he took the emulation a little farther than most do._

_Yes, they are learning more than their canon counterparts did at this point. Fear not that they will be overpowered. Their challenges will be commensurately harder. Also, pretty much every character in this fic is going to be more competent than their canon counterpart, as incompetence is boring. Besides, most of these characters are supposed to be highly intelligent, and highly intelligent characters being incompetent all over the place just feels wrong._


	13. Chapter 13: Training

**A/N:**

**On the Next Update**: This one ran long so I split it in two. The second half isn't quite finished, so I'm a little hesitant to give a definitive date for it, but it's mostly there so I'm going to ignore my misgivings and say Monday evening.

**Disclaimer**: The first rule of Kishimoto is: You do not talk about Kishimoto. The second rule of Kishimoto is: You do not talk about Kishimoto. Third rule of Kishimoto: Someone yells stop, goes limp, taps out, the Kishimoto is over. Fourth rule: only two guys to a Kishimoto. Fifth rule: one Kishimoto at a time, fellas. Sixth rule: no shirts, no shoes. Seventh rule: Kishimoto will go on as long as it has to. And the eighth and final rule: If this is your first night at Kishimoto, you have to Kishimoto.

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**Chapter 13: Agile Development**

Time passed.

Our days proceeded much as Kakashi had said they would. Our morning lectures covered a wide variety of topics: seeing "underneath the underneath", the distinction between honor and morality, the organization of Konoha's council system, etc.

Some of the lessons told me things I already knew. Some of them told me things I opposed ideologically. All of them gave me further insight into Kakashi's character.

He was a curious individual. Highly intelligent, incredibly observant, fully devoted to Konoha. He had a strange cocktail of native cynicism and appropriated idealism, so long assumed that it was now internalized.

His punctuality was a pleasant surprise. He was still late a few times, but rarely by more than a few minutes. He showed up hungover once. When he told us to just work on our own things that morning, I decided it was an excellent time to try an application of explosive seals I'd been considering for a while: flashbangs. Kakashi did not show up hungover again.

Still, some backsliding was to be expected: people generally didn't succeed at completely turning their lives around without a bit of struggle. When they did, it usually took a little more drastic a catalyst than being yelled at by an irate twelve-year-old.

I also got further glimpses at the personalities of my teammates. Naruto was more attentive than he'd ever been at the academy. Made sense: Kakashi was one of the first authority figures to acknowledge him, if not as an equal, then at least as a peer, a fellow ninja of Konoha. Iruka had done that as well, but by that time Naruto had already cast himself as the class clown, a hard pattern to break while still in the context of the Academy.

He seemed to really think about the things Kakashi talked about, and even had the occasional insightful comment. A lot of the more abstract things went over his head at first, but he was steadily learning. He was still excitable, impetuous, and unthinking, but that was—oh so slowly—being tempered by caution, perception and consideration.

Sasuke was also more engaged than he'd ever been. He'd payed attention at the Academy, of course. No son of Fugaku would ever be seen visibly slacking off, and he had maintained excellent grades. That being said, he'd never offered anything in class, just sat and watched. That was mostly what he did with Kakashi as well (substituting stretching for sitting), but he occasionally let himself be drawn into the discussion. His remarks revealed a quick mind: quick to reason, quick to judge, and quick to anger. He was also quick to withdraw if anyone—especially me—tried to engage with him directly.

We practiced tree-walking every day. Sasuke progressed steadily and rapidly: within a week he was running up and down the oaks we practiced on, and he moved on to harder materials. Naruto was stymied at first, and he completely stripped the bark off several trees with his repeated attempts. However, after a few hours of careful practice under Kakashi's watchful eye, he was able to tame his inner demon (or at least keep its chakra at bay while performing the delicate maneuver) and things went much more smoothly. His chakra control was still abysmal, but he no longer had the huge, unpredictable surges that blew bark everywhere.

My own progress was slow but steady. It took me a few days to figure out how to maintain a chakra construct without focusing on it, and to determine the proper shape and size the chakra "hairs" needed to be. After that it was just a matter of practice to improve my speed of creation and retraction.

Kakashi also began teaching us jutsu. Much to Naruto's disappointment, we began with some simple utility jutsu. In our first week he showed us three techniques: one to condense water out of ambient moisture, one to start fires, and one to send up a colored flare. The jutsu were incredibly simple, but they were the first elemental techniques Naruto and I had ever tried, and we struggled mightily. Sasuke mastered each one almost as quickly as Kakashi showed them to him. The suiton took him nearly half an hour, but the other two he got on the first and second tries, respectively. With a contemptuous look at Naruto, he went back to his tree-walking.

Naruto and I worked diligently on the jutsu throughout the week. It took him a while to learn the motions and to damp down his chakra output enough that the jutsu didn't fizzle. Once he had that, his control was all that needed work. And need work it did. He had an unfortunate tendency to spray water everywhere, and to ignite things other than his intended target. The former helped when the latter happened, but that was little consolation when he set his sleeve on fire. Thankfully Sasuke was busy elsewhere when that occured, and Kakashi had enough tact to save his laughter for later.

Still, his control did slowly improve as he worked at it. And at least he was able to do _something_. I picked up the movements and the theory immediately, but could not for the life of me create enough elemental chakra to power the jutsu. I was, after a few attempts, able to create a tiny amount of fire chakra, about half the amount needed for the fire-starting jutsu, but the attempt nearly killed me. The effort involved reminded me of my early days of chakra manipulation, an ordeal I was not eager to repeat.

After a few days of repeated failure, I gave up. I was loathe to close off another avenue of improvement (and loathe to give up on anything, in any context), but every second I spent practicing elemental jutsu was one I spent not practicing something that I might actually be competent at. Besides, chakra reserves like mine, most of the really useful elemental jutsu would leave me drained after one or two uses, if I could power them at all.

Instead, I duplicated the jutsu's effects with seals. A slow-burn explosive seal, set to release its payload over a couple seconds, was a fine firestarter. A colored explosive seal stuck to a rock and thrown upwards looked much like the flare. It took me a few minutes to figure out how to make the explosions different colors, and it was a somewhat hacked together solution, but it worked. I had figured out months ago how to seal water into a storage seal, so I would rarely have need for the condensation jutsu anyway. That also had the benefit of working in places with low ambient moisture, like Suna. Kakashi wasn't exactly pleased with my inability, but he was mollified by my workarounds.

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After giving us a week to think it over, Kakashi took each of us aside to ask us about our plans for our development. He walked off with Naruto first, leaving Sasuke and me to keep working on our kunai and shuriken throwing. He returned an hour later, looking somewhat annoyed. He took Sasuke next, leaving Naruto to tell me about all the cool new jutsu he was going to learn, many of which I was sure did not exist, some of which I was pretty sure _could_ not exist.

The two Sharingan wielders returned twenty minutes later, and it was my turn. Kakashi and I walked to a nearby picnic table and sat, facing each other. He sat up straight and steepled his fingers, fixing me with a stern gaze.

"So, Mrs. Wakahisa, where do you see yourself in five years?"

It looked like academia wasn't the only place the language of our worlds converged. Still, I'd been to a few interviews in my time. I affected a slow, deliberate tone. "I am driven to be the best at what I do and I want to work somewhere where I'll have opportunities to develop my skills, take on interesting projects, and work with people I can really learn from. Ultimately, I'd like to assume more management responsibilities and…" I trailed off, switching back to my normal voice. "Oh, you meant with jutsu, didn't you?"

The corner of his eye crinkled. "I suppose I was asking for that. Yes, I mean jutsu. I assume that, unlike some people"—he cast and irate glance back towards our practice area—"you have a plan for your progression, at least in the short term?"

"Yes, yes I do. I want to focus mostly on sealing, as it seems to be the only area in which I have a comparative advantage. Taijutsu—mostly defensively focused, augmented by seals—also seems prudent to work on, so I don't fold the second someone gets in close."

"Makes sense," he said, nodding. "Taijutsu I can easily teach you, with several styles to choose from. We can go over those in a minute. Sealing…will be harder. I've picked up a fair bit of it over the years, but I'm not sure I have the requisite skills for passing it on. I can try to teach you as Minato taught me, and if that fails I can maybe look for someone else…though there are few these days who—" I started shaking my head. "No?"

"I'm not sure how much help a sealing teacher would actually be to me. My methods are somewhat different from those most use. I know every fuinjutsu user thinks they are idiosyncratic, but I actually think I'm the first one who isn't, which might make me the most idiosyncratic?"

Kakashi gave me a bemused look, so I tried to explain how I'd been working to determine the underlying language and rules of fuinjutsu, contrasting with the usual intuition-based system. I wasn't sure I was getting the point across very well. "It's like…most sealers are painters. Ask them to draw you a house and you'll get a wide variety of different pictures, in all different shapes, sizes and colors. All of them, if the person has any skill, will capture the essence of the house, but there will be stylistic distinctions and flourishes, based on the artist's intuition and inspiration.

"What I do is much more like drafting. There are a series of rules to be followed, equations to be worked out, the end result perfectly dictated by the goal and the system. An artist might teach a draftsman some of the basics of drawing—how best to hold a pencil, tricks to get straight lines without a ruler, where to buy supplies—but beyond that would just hopelessly muddle everything."

He pondered that for a minute. "Could you walk me through the basics of how you do it? If I could see that, I could maybe reconcile it with the sealing I know."

"Maybe…but, uh, do you know much higher math? Specifically calculus, group theory and algebraic topology? Without a solid background there, most of the specifics won't make much sense. I"—_should probably justify that knowledge__—_"was crazy about math as a kid." True, though the childhood I was talking about was most definitely _not_ the one Kakashi would think of. "That background was one of the main reasons I could figure out sealing the way I did."

He looked at me for a moment longer before shaking his head. "Sounds like what you do really is different from the usual. I guess you'll have to work on that aspect of it yourself. What _can_ I do to facilitate?"

"Two main things. The first is rather straightforward: I need access to as many examples of seals as possible. Ideally seals that are themselves useful, as then I learn a useful seal alongside figuring out the principles the seal works on. I'd really like to get my hands on something by one of sealing greats: Jiraiya, Orochimaru, Minato, any of the Uzumakis. What I can do with my seals is, for the most part, constrained by the examples I'm working from, so studying some more complicated and abstract seals will open up many new avenues for me."

"Some seals might be off-limits to you for reasons of security," Kakashi said. "Others for reasons of practicality: few examples of Orochimaru's work remain in Konoha. Regardless, I'll see what I can do. What's the other thing?"

"I want to be able to place seals by chakra alone. Right now I can't do it without a pattern to follow. Chakra-conducting ink is easiest, though I've recently been working on using anything grooved: carvings, drawings in dirt, that kind of thing. That's coming along, though it's slow and inflexible and it really limits my usefulness. I've heard stories of ninja able to simply tap something and leave a seal behind; I would really like to be able to do that."

"Now that is something I can teach you," he said, smiling. "I never bothered to learn to do it myself—none of the seals I know really call for it—but I know the theory. Pretty finicky, takes some very fine control, but you can probably learn it if you work at it, as I'm sure you will. Anything else?"

"I think that's it, for now."

"Good. Let's talk taijutsu."

We talked about possible styles for me for a little bit. I explained how my speed seal worked, and he decided I'd need to try a few different styles, see what synergized with the seal and my natural inclinations. We finished our discussion and went to return to the boys, but I wasn't quite done.

"One last thing. This one's for Naruto, not myself. I understand most of his suggestions and ideas may have been…impractical, but there's one jutsu I think he would really benefit from." Kakashi raised his eyebrow quizzically at me as I took a breath.

"Kage bunshin. You saw what he did with regular clones: imagine the possibilities if they were corporeal. I know it's a kinjutsu, but that's mostly because of the chakra costs, right? That shouldn't be a problem for him: his reserves are larger than those of most jonin." I spoke quickly as Kakashi's eyebrow rose higher and higher. He opened his mouth to reply but I wasn't done. "Plenty of people use it anyway; you used it yourself during our test. It doesn't really make sense for it to be forbidden: it's not dangerous to other people and has no morally objectionable components. If it's just that it takes a lot of chakra, why isn't every high-draw technique a kinjutsu? And, and—"

Kakashi laughed and held up his hand, halting my tirade. "It's forbidden because its chakra-splitting nature makes it hard to judge exactly how much chakra it's going to take, so someone without the necessary reserves can easily drain themselves dangerously—on one occasion, fatally—low. Getting permission to learn it is a simple matter of petitioning the Hokage's office for an exemption. Something I did on Naruto's behalf two days ago. I'm just waiting for his chakra control to improve a bit before I try to teach it to him. He'd probably struggle with it at his current level."

"Oh," I said, somewhat taken aback. I guess Kakashi thinking of that wasn't too strange: seeing someone spam bunshin naturally brought the more useful version to mind.

I smiled. "You could probably teach it to him now. He might surprise you."

And so Kakashi taught Konoha's number-one-most-surprising ninja his signature-jutsu-to-be, and Naruto lived up to his moniker by picking it up right away. I listened in as Kakashi explained the difference between the singular shadow clone jutsu and the mass shadow clone jutsu.

The mass version created many more clones, dozens at a time, but they lacked the sapience a singular clone received. They could follow simple orders and directions, but had no initiative of their own and were incapable of abstract reasoning. Crucially, unlike the normal kage bunshin, their knowledge and experience were _not_ returned to the original upon dispersal.

I frowned as Kakashi warned Naruto against using too many sapient clones at once, as their memories took time and energy to assimilate, and placed a mental strain on the user that could be overwhelming in large numbers. Another way this world differed from that of canon Naruto? The mental strain thing had been in the manga, though beyond being mentioned briefly I don't think it ever actually affected anything. The sapience/multiplicity dichotomy was new. May have been necessary for this world to be internally consistent though. Massed shadow clones were far and away the fastest way to train. There were intelligent people with access to the technique and the power to use it who, despite being obsessed with getting stronger, did not. These two facts could not be true about the same world without a large confounding factor. As we didn't exist at the whims of a forgetful author, it looked like the former had been changed.

After Naruto mastered the technique and got into an argument with himself (prompting Sasuke to mutter that there was "finally someone who could annoy Naruto as much as he annoyed everyone else"), we sparred. Sasuke usually came out ahead when we fought, and today was no exception. My skill-set wasn't particularly well suited for practice bouts, as currently my only real offensive technique—explosive seals—was somewhat more lethal than was ideal for use on teammates. Naruto just didn't yet have the necessary skills to compete with us, though he was slowly getting there, and the shadow clones let him put up a much better showing than he had in any previous bout.

There was another reason I rarely won and Naruto never did: I was doing my utmost to ensure that Naruto did not emerge victorious.

Not yet, at least. It would, for two very different reasons, be fairly bad for the egos of both the boys if Naruto defeated Sasuke. The Uchiha heir had a massive inferiority complex: being beaten by Naruto would do unhealthy things to his psyche, for now. He needed more time to see Naruto as a teammate and worthy opponent, to see him improving and becoming a skilled ninja rather than the worthless 'dead last' Sasuke had known for years.

Naruto, on the other hand, needed something to keep his opinion of himself in check. He was already supremely confident in his abilities, despite the, uh, lack thereof. I hoped and expected that this would change the first time we got into a real fight with actual consequences, but for now his daily humbling was valuable.

Besides, he really wasn't ready to beat Sasuke yet. It was still possible, of course, especially if Sasuke and I spent ourselves on each other, but it wouldn't be on his own merits. I knew that that victory would be a pivotal moment for Naruto (and Sasuke and, by extension, Team 7) and when it happened I wanted it to be because Naruto earned it, not because of a lucky blow. That sounded somewhat like a rationalization, even to myself, but I didn't care. I'd pick team dynamics over fair play any day of the week.

After lunch we made our way to the Hokage tower to pick-up our afternoon mission. I hoped for something with relatively little villager interaction. I had never been a particularly social person; an afternoon of exchanging pleasantries with strangers was not my idea of a good time. Despite that, I had become our team's ambassador to the public.

Naruto's infamy made it…inefficient…to have him be the one who talked to the villagers. The rehabilitation of his reputation was one of my long-term goals, but that would come in time. For now, having him take point just caused disruptions, not to mention depressing the normally indomitable ninja.

Sasuke had the opposite problem. Civilians fawned and gushed over him like he was the second coming of the Sage of Six Paths (that this was actually almost true was beside the point). Rank-and-file ninja were a little better, but their deference towards a surly twelve-year-old was still strange and unsettling. Most of the ninja I'd spent time with were clan heads and their immediate families, and I'd never before realized just how aristocratic Konoha really was. Sasuke, being the last scion of one of the village's greatest clans, not the mention a widely-recognized "genius" in his own right, received a staggering amount of attention. Attention that he, shall we say, did not relish. After the first few times I'd caught a whiff of killing intent from him, I'd decided it would probably be better if he didn't have to deal with people any more than was strictly necessary.

Kakashi, being the jōnin, would have been the natural choice as the one to do the talking, but he preferred to leave us to our own devices for the D-ranks. When he wasn't actively interfering, that was. Todays mission of "babysit the councilor's daughter" became "guard the councilor's daughter", as Kakashi attempted to stealthily spirit her away, a game the excitable four-year-old enjoyed inordinately. Still, it was less strenuous than trying to catch a cat without touching the ground, and less stressful than delivering letters set to combust if we were too slow (though I was somewhat dubious that that hadn't been a bluff, given Kakashi's whole "do the mission properly" thing. The only delivery we'd failed and had burn up had been to Gai and could've easily come from Kakashi himself).

We returned the kid to her mother, who was somewhat disconcerted by her child's insistence that she "wanted to be kidmapped again tomorrow". Our duties discharged, we were preparing to disperse for the day when Kakashi came over.

"So, you three, any big plans for the evening?" he asked.

"Not for me," I said, "the 'rents are out on patrol."

Naruto looked downcast and Sasuke scowled but neither of them said anything. They didn't have to. Few friends and no family meant the odds of them not being free on any given night were pretty slim. Honestly, it was kind of insensitive of Kakashi to ask.

"Good. You did well today—have been doing well for the past two weeks—and I thought you deserved a treat. Dinner on me."

Ah. The dreaded team bonding time. More necessary for ninja teams than in pretty much any other context, but still.

Naruto perked up at the mention of food. "…ramen?" he asked, quietly and hopefully.

"No!" three voices answered him. Kakashi, Sasuke and I shared a look.

"Not everyone is as ramen-crazy as you," Sasuke said. The "dobe" was implied by his tone of voice, but it was left off. Progress.

"No one is as ramen-crazy as him," Kakashi said. He turned back to Naruto. "You really need to eat other things, you know. Nutrition is important for growing ninja; only ever eating at a ramen stand cannot be good for your health. Might even stunt your growth."

"What!?" Naruto yelled. He grabbed his hair in both hands and pulled (whether in consternation or in an attempt to pull himself taller, I wasn't really sure).

"It's understandable, I guess. The staff at Ichiraku's are very nice," I said, giving Kakashi a pointed look. I hoped he could take the hint.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, while Naruto continued to grow more agitated. "That's fine. You'd be amazed just how 'kind' most civilians get when you have a jōnin with you."

Naruto was pacing now, muttering under his breath. "But is being taller worth eating something other than ramen…maybe…if I make ramen out of other food…but then…"

Naruto paced past Sasuke, who reached his hand out, saying "Calm down, you idiot. Clearly not only your _physical_ grow—"

I'm not sure exactly what Sasuke was aiming for, but Naruto turned towards him right as his hand reached out, and his fingers hit the shorter ninja right between the eyes. Naruto stopped, and Sasuke jerked backwards as if he'd been struck. Now _there_ was a gesture I had not expected to see between them, intentional or otherwise. Sasuke was looking back and forth between his hand and Naruto's forehead, a mixture of disgust and anguish plain on his face. Naruto stood still, mouth slightly ajar, confusion evident.

Kakashi took in this byplay with an impassive face. Finally, he smiled. "Then it's decided! I know just the place."

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_Bah, I hate transitional chapters. This chapter was really hard to write, because I wanted to be writing the next five chapters instead. I'm not entirely happy with how it turned out, but whatever. If I were editing this into a novel, I would probably cut 95% of this chapter, but I figured I'd leave most of it in, because I wrote a bunch of words, and you guys like words, right?_

_Just to clarify what I said last time: I didn't mean that every character would magically become intelligent, or that characters would have other weaknesses obviated. I just meant that characters who **should** be intelligent (either because of who they are, or because we know they're supposed to be) will act intelligently, and will only ever hold the idiot ball for long enough to pitch it as a curve-ball right at the protagonists' faces._


	14. Chapter 14: Interference

**A/N:**

**Disclaimer:** Three can keep a Kishimoto, if two are dead.

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**Chapter 14: Wave Interference**

The Sunset Boulevard was a large building whose front (west-facing) wall was entirely made of windows. The maître d' came forward to greet us as we entered. He was a tall man with a posture you could use for technical drawings in the absence of a ruler. He wore a formal black-and-white striped kimono, with accompanying hakama. He greeted us warmly, though his carefully maintained neutral expression cracked slightly when his eyes fell on Naruto. He made an abrupt hand motion, and one of the waiters ran into the back of the restaurant.

"Welcome honored customers. Please excuse the delay, we just have a small, er, booking conflict. Please wait for the manager and we will sort this out."

Looking past him, I could see that at least half the seats were empty. They were going to have to try a little harder than that to keep us out. Still, no point in arguing with someone who was clearly just shunting us up the chain of command. Kakashi lounged against the wall while we waited. Naruto fidgeted nervously, and Sasuke's perpetual scowl was firmly back in place.

A small man came out of the back room, walking quickly. He was dressed in simple pants and a long-sleeved shirt. I imagined he didn't usually have to deal with the public. The maître d' relaxed fractionally as he arrived.

"Sir, these—" he began.

"Yes, very good, Junichi. I'll handle this from here, return to your post." A jerk of his head indicated the family of four who had come in after us. The manager took us to the side, into a small alcove. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm terribly sorry, sirs and madame, but there seems to have been a double booking. As the other party booked days ago, we are forced to give them priority. There is a truly excellent restaurant just down the street from here which I'm sure would have space for you. They are famed for their great dumplings, very popular with…the…ninja…" he trailed off under Kakashi's steady gaze.

"I can't help but notice that over half of your seats are empty," Kakashi said. "Could we not have one of those tables instead?" His voice was amused, but held a dangerous undercurrent. I wondered if the manager caught it. Judging by the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, I'd say he had.

"Yes, well, uh, we have a very large party coming in soon. They booked up all those tables. I'm sure you can understand—"

"In that case, maybe we'll just wait and ask them if we can join them. When did you say they would be showing up?"

"Well, uh, you see…"

"Or maybe we could talk to this mysterious double bookee, work something out. Where are they exactly?" Kakashi hadn't moved, but he seemed to be slowly looming over the manager more and more as the small man shrunk away from him, withering under his glare.

"No, that, they, uh…"

"If you're going to deny us entry, at least have the courage to do it without pretexts."

The manager took a minute to gather himself. He took another deep breath a straightened his shoulders. "Very well then. You cannot eat here while you have that…that _thing_ with you." Naruto, who had held himself completely still throughout the entire exchange, flinched backwards at that. I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder, giving him a small, tight smile. That caused him to stiffen again, but he no longer—quite—looked like he'd drunk sour milk.

A storm was brewing behind Kakashi's mask. "You petty little worm. What has he ever done to you?"

The man wrung his hands, but he seemed to have found his courage. "It's not—mostly—that. It's a simple matter of business. If it becomes known that the de—that _he_ is frequenting my establishment, many customers would take their mouths—and their wallets—elsewhere."

"And if it became known that the ninja of Konoha were not welcome here, that you'd turned away a jōnin, what would that do to business?"

"Nothing good, but less than the alternative. Especially if the full story were known." Some anger of his own found his way into his voice. "You come in here, offer me a lose-lose—"

Sasuke stepped forward and spoke quietly, though his words cut through the other man's like a chakra-enhanced kunai. "And if it became known that you'd turned away the last of the Uchiha? Or better yet, that I'd eaten here and detested it? The Uchiha were always known as a clan of impeccable taste. I might even tell everyone just how excellent the place down the street is: you yourself seem to think rather highly of it."

The man deflated. "You—you—can't do that! You…" He took in our grim faces. I was fighting to keep a huge smile off my face—I could kiss Sasuke!—but there would be time enough for that later (well, not _that, _per se. You know what I mean). For now intimidation was the name of the game. "…can have the table in the corner there."

As we walked past the defeated man, I couldn't resist one final parting shot. "You weren't offered a lose-lose, you know. You were offered a choice between doing what was right, and doing what—you thought—was good for you. You had better hope the next time you're relying on a shinobi for life and limb that they do not choose as you did.

With that, I went off to join my team.

As we got settled at our table, Naruto turned to Sasuke and said one word.

"Why?"

Sasuke scowled and said nothing, and for a second I thought he was going to brush Naruto off, but he was just considering his words.

"I dislike idiocy more than I dislike you," he said. "If the man knew you, and he wanted to deny you service because of how annoying you are, I would perfectly understand and have no problem with it. Instead, he based his decision off of some fact about you he learned through hearsay. I don't know what that fact is, but it's clear Ami and Kakashi do, and I trust their judgment. _He_ seemed afraid of you, despite you acting entirely non-threatening, which makes him a coward and a fool. I cannot abide cowards _or_ fools."

"Besides," I said, "we're a team. Teammates look out for one another." Sasuke didn't agree, but he didn't gainsay me either.

The waiter arrived, delivering menus and taking our drink orders. We all ordered a round of sake.

"And for the young madame and messieurs, will that be alcoholic or not?"

We looked at Kakashi, who held up his hands. "Don't look at me. You're ninja now, adults in the eyes of the world. If you choose to get yourself drunk, that's your prerogative."

Naruto opted for alcohol, while Sasuke and I did not. I had never been particularly good at holding my liquor. I was mildly curious whether that was something that my new body would have changed, but I had far too many secrets to test that now. Sasuke, I think, was too tightly wound for his unwinding to be a painless thing. I would have been worried about a drunken Naruto making a scene, but chances were his passenger would eliminate the alcohol like it would any other poison, so there would be no more tomfoolery than usual.

We settled into an awkward silence. I cast about for a conversational topic, but it was hard. We spent much of our time together, and what little we didn't was mostly spent training, the results of which we all saw the next day. Movies, books, bands, and the other standbys were not available. I knew neither of the boys followed current events, and Kakashi was ignoring us completely, nose buried in a little orange book.

The waiter returned with our drinks and took our orders. I got Naruto talking about his pranking, and he told the story of him defacing the Hokage monument. It was punctuated by many wild gestures and silly faces, but was fairly entertaining and surprisingly coherent. Sasuke didn't say much, but he did seem to be listening. After Naruto was done, I told them about the time my father had replaced my shampoo with hair dye (something I'd found quite funny, because my hair was _already_ a ridiculous color).

That done, I turned to Sasuke expectantly. _Come on, come on. Engage with us. Say something. Anything_. He hesitated for a few moments before mumbling something indecipherable about his mother and hidden toys. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

The ice broken, our conversation proceeded more organically. It wasn't easy discourse, and it got a little uncomfortable at a few points, but it was something. I couldn't be sure, what with that damn mask, but I thought I caught Kakashi smiling at several points.

Sasuke's contributions were mostly limited to the occasional comment or aside, but they were there. As we talked, I realized something I'd known long ago but had forgotten in seeing the cold closed-off Sasuke for years. He was actually a pretty funny guy. His humor was dry and biting, but when it wasn't being directed at Naruto and thus a symptom of our team dysfunction, I could actually appreciate it. An image popped into my head of Sasuke at a roast, next to a bunch of portly, balding comedians, and I burst out laughing. Luckily that coincided with Naruto doing a spot-on impression of the Hokage, so my laughter was joined by Kakashi's chuckles.

I had to admit: I was having a much better time than I'd expected. Against all odds, I actually felt relatively relaxed. I reached for a dumpling with my chopsticks but missed, succeeding on my second attempt. I turned to face Naruto as he asked me a question.

"Anyway, Ami, how did you learn sealing in the first place? They never really talked about it at the academy."

"I just taught myself," I said with a sly smile.

"Wasn't that hard?" Naruto asked. "It's supposed to be, like, really complicated. All those numbers and letters." He shuddered.

"Oh, it wasn't so bad. You want Hard, you should try solving the halting problem. Compared to that, sealing was NP—no problem." I giggled at my joke. It didn't really translate well, but whatever. Man was I clever.

My team was giving me rather strange looks. Naruto looked somewhat concerned. Whatever. I grabbed my drink and took another swig of sake. It had had a slightly weird taste earlier, but now it tasted great.

Oh. Oh, shit. I was going to _kill_ that waiter.

The rest of the night was an indistinct blur for me. The main thing I remembered the next morning was repeating to myself over and over (hopefully in my head rather than out loud) "Mouth shut, say nothing. Mouth shut, say nothing." At least drunken me had been smart enough to not try to dissemble while inebriated. That'll earn you six demerits on your dissembling license if you get caught.

I had a hazy memory of being carried to my bed by something warm and orange.

I woke up groggy and disoriented, with a splitting headache. The smell of cooking eggs and frying bacon coaxed me downstairs, where I found my father cooking while my mother sat at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper.

"Ah," she said as I entered, "it lives!"

I groaned and put my hands over my ears as I sat down. "Quieter, please."

Dad turned around and leaned over Mom, putting his arms around her shoulders. "Look at our little baby. All grown up and making poor decisions. Seems like only yesterday she was drinking out of a bottle of a different type."

"Not my fault," I said blearily. "My sake was supposed to be non-alcholic. Stupid waiter must have gotten our orders confused."

"We know, sweetie," Mom said. "Your friends explained last night. It was a bit of a shock to come home from patrol and find them trying to break into our house." Of course. I kept my key in a storage scroll. "They seemed like nice boys, though, once we got everything sorted out. The one, so handsome but so serious. The other, so warm and genuine. I thought we were going to have to let him sleep on the floor, he was so concerned for your welfare. He only left after we assured him that you would be fine, and that you would be embarrassed to have him here when you woke up."

Dad stood back up and fixed me with a serious gaze. "Yes, he did seem very…concerned. Should I be fetching my sword? Explain to him exactly how precious you are, and that you have two parents intimately familiar with instruments of violence?"

Dads. They were the same everywhere. "You don't have to worry about _him_."

His stern visage cracked into a smile and he stepped towards me. "Oho, does that mean that there _is_ someone I should be worried about? Is it the Uchiha? Going after his money and status?" He paused for a second before reaching his hand up for a high-five. "That's my girl!"

"Your bacon is burning," I said, not raising my hand or head from the table.

"Oh shi-oot," he said, going back to the oven.

"Oh, give her a break, Hiro," Mom said. She leaned in conspiratorially. "So…who is he? Dish."

I groaned and she leaned back, her laughter joined by Dad's a second later. Lunatics, the lot of 'em.

She wiped at her eye as her laughter died down. "We're sorry, sweetie, for laughing at you right now. We know your head hurts; it's just nice to be able to verbally get the better of you without a massive undertaking. You'll understand someday, if you ever have kids that are smarter than you."

She got up to get some tea while I mulled that over. I muttered my thanks as she placed a cup in front of me.

"Actually, honey, we were wanting to talk to you about Naruto. We were somewhat unsure before, but having met him, he really does seem like a nice kid. You might have heard some people saying bad things about him, and you should know…well, I can't tell you why, actually, but—"

"I know he's a jinchūriki," I said.

"What? How? Who told you?"

"No one told me. Figured it out. Names, dates, traits. Only thing that added up. Kind of obvious, really."

Dad hooted. "That's what they get for trying to hide something from my little Hibari-chan."

Mom looked concerned. "And…you're not bothered by him? By _it_?"

"Am I bothered by him?" I asked, blinking to clear my eyes as I sat up. I put my pounding thoughts in order. "All the time; he can be quite annoying. Am I bothered by the nine-tails? Never. Naruto shoulders that burden alone. What I _am_ bothered by is how he is treated. Shunned, spat upon, abused by idiots too thick to distinguish between the medium and the message. Did you know he's been living by himself since the age of 4? There were a series of 'accidents' at the orphanage which culminated in him nearly dying, after which it was determined to be too dangerous for him." Disgust crept into my voice. "For a four-year-old. From what I've seen, that fiasco is fairly typical of his interaction with the villagers.

"Someone"—Churchill—"once said that the best argument against democracy was five minutes with the average voter. After hearing how Naruto is treated, I feel like that's true. Never before has my love and loyalty to Konoha been so sorely tested."

There were tears of a different kind in my mother's eyes now. "Oh, that poor boy. Why…why didn't you say anything to us earlier?"

"I…"—_compartmentalized my relationships for ease of management, giving little thought to the needs of those individuals—_"…didn't realize how bad it was until very recently. After that, I thought you meeting him first would make this conversation a lot easier."

Dad had turned off the stove at some point. Now, he put his hand on Mom's shoulder and squeezed. He looked up at me. "What can we do?" In front of him, Mom, still crying, nodded resolutely.

I felt a warm feeling. No matter how sorely my loyalty to the village was tested, it would always hold strong, so long as that village included these two wonderful people.

"Mostly? Just be yourselves around him. The main thing he needs is to be treated like a normal kid, rather than a pariah. So does Sasuke, actually. Do you think we could have the team over for dinner every so often? Honestly, might be good for Kakashi too. I don't think he socializes much, and the two people he does talk to regularly are…kind of strange."

"We'd love to," Mom said.

Dad was frowning. "What are Sasuke and Kakashi's problems?"

"Ho boy, where do I start?"

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* * *

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Two weeks later found us once more at the Hokage's tower to receive our afternoon mission. We were sitting in the lobby while he finished the appointment before ours. I perused the mission board as we waited, as was my wont. All D-and-C-rank missions were listed there, as well as some B-rank missions. S—, A-, and most B-ranks were given directly to the relevant teams, as they were more sensitive. They were also more specialized, with only a few teams able to do them, so there would've been little point to posting them.

As per usual, most of the interesting-looking missions had the important details redacted, but looking over them all gave me a bit of insight into Konoha's operation. Besides, I was keeping my eyes out for…there it was.

Escort mission. Rank: C. Destination: Redacted. Duration: 2-4 weeks. Threat Level: Low.

I was surprised they would redact the destination for such a minor mission, but ninja were nothing if not cautious. With it redacted, I couldn't be positive, but I was pretty sure this was the Wave mission. Escort missions were fairly rare, and 2-4 weeks was the right travel time for a civilian with possible complications. Threat level low meant up to a dozen chakraless opponents, which was probably what Tazuna would have said.

Well, there it was. What was I going to do about it? Nothing.

It was way too dangerous for us to fight Zabuza at our current level. A team of chūnin would likely take the mission. They would almost certainly turn back after fighting the Demon Brothers and realizing they'd been lied to about the mission parameters. Depending who was sent that might be a hard fight but, well, that was the life of a ninja. The bridge wouldn't be built and the area wouldn't be revitalized, but that was something we could fix later, in a year or two when we had the strength to easily deal with Gatō and his mercenaries.

The Hokage's door opened and I was surprised to see my parents coming out, along with two other ninja. I didn't recognize one of them, which would make him Naoki, a relatively new member of their team. The other had gone through the Academy with my father; _him_, I knew all too well.

"Mom, Dad, Uncle Shigeo! What are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are, presumably. Here to get a mission." Dad said. "Or did you want them all for yourselves?"

Of course. Most teams with career genin on them were restricted to patrols and guard duty, so that's what I was used to my parents doing. With Dad's recent promotion however, and now that Naoki had been added to their team, they could start taking on missions.

Shigeo stepped forward to stand beside his friend. He shook his head in mock disapproval. "Kids these days. So entitled." He smiled up at me as I made a sound of indignation, and reached out a hand to ruffle my hair. "Look at you, all grown up! Last I saw you, you barely came up to my knee."

"I saw you not two months ago," I interjected.

"Now look at you," he continued blithely, "A full ninja, with a team of your own." He surveyed my teammates. He stiffened when his eyes fell on Naruto, but the combined power of my and my mother's glares had him quickly forcing himself to relax again, or at least feign doing so.

Pleasantries and introductions were exchanged all around, until Kakashi lightly remarked that we were keeping the Hokage waiting.

Hasty goodbyes were said and my parent's team left, though not before Mom extracted a promise from Kakashi, Naruto and Sasuke that they would be by for dinner again soon. "Well, not too soon," she said as she left, "as we're going to be away for a few weeks. We'll have Ami let you know."

My blood ran cold. I froze in place as my parents walked away, and I just barely heard Mom say "This is exciting, we haven't been out of country in so long…" as they went out of earshot.

My thoughts raced. I considered all the missions on the board. Was there another that would take them out of country for a few weeks? That would be given to a team of relatively new chūnin? No, that one would be months. No, that was in-country. No, too high-ranked. No, no, no, no. Damn. Damn it all.

I turned to look at my team. Kakashi was paused, one hand on the doorknob to the Hokage's office. Sasuke and Naruto were just behind him, barely moving. I realized I'd inadvertently activated my speed seal. I forced myself to take a deep breath. Calm. Panicking would solve nothing. Calm. I took another breath and released the seal, filing in behind Naruto.

The Hokage was seated behind a large mahogany desk. His red-and-white robes combined with his pointed hat always made me think of the salamander my grade four class had had as a pet, but I was too agitated right now to find his appearance amusing. I barely listened as he asked about yesterday's mission.

My parents would probably not turn back after the Demon Brothers. They were deeply compassionate people. Shigeo, despite his clownish demeanour, was also very warm-hearted. They would not turn away from Tazuna's plight, even after hearing of the danger. I didn't know Naoki, but my parents spoke highly of him, so I doubted he was unsympathetic. Zabuza would slaughter them like cattle.

No, he wouldn't, because I wouldn't let him.

Naruto was somewhat more staid than his canon counterpart was at this point. I couldn't count on an outburst from him, but…

Kakashi had just started telling Hiruzen which mission we'd chosen for the afternoon when I spoke up. "Actually, sensei, I was wondering if we could maybe try a more interesting mission. These D-ranks only ever keep us in the village, and I really want to see some more of the world. Besides, you're always telling us how there is no substitute for experience. We're not getting much experience like this, except as dog catchers and babysitters."

The Hokage looked at me over steepled fingers. "And you think you're too good for those missions?"

"It's not that we're too good, and it's not that those missions aren't…edifying…it's just that I feel like our time could be better spent."

Naruto looked between me and the Hokage. "Well, _I_ think we're too good for them. C'mon, old man, give us something fun to do!"

Okay, maybe not _that_ staid.

"You want something fun, hmmm?" the Hokage asked. "I think I have just the mission for you. An escort mission to the Land of the Waves. Bandits should be the worst you face there, something that should be no problem for ninja of your _stature_." _Did he just make a short joke? _The emphasis made me think so, but his face was still perfectly serious. Must have been unintentional. "I just gave it to another team, but they're not set to leave until tomorrow. I can easily reassign it." He turned to Kakashi. "You were just saying you wanted a chance for your team to get a wider view of the world. Do you think this would work?"

Kakashi looked at the older ninja, and something passed between them. I wondered what they'd really been talking about.

"Yes, it should."

"Very well, then. Team 7, you have your first C-rank mission. Good luck. Do Konoha proud."

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* * *

_._

_Ptooey! Sorry about that, had a bunch of fluff stuck in my mouth._

_It was never clear in the manga how long passed between graduation and Wave. I have gone with 3-4 weeks, both from the line "about time for this" and because it works better for my timeline._

_The halting problem is (from Wikipedia) "the problem of determining, from a description of an arbitrary computer program and an input, whether the program will finish running or continue to run forever." It is one of the most important problems in Computer Science, as it has been proven to be undecidable (over Turing Machines), so one of the main ways that people prove the undecidability of a given problem is reducing it to the halting problem._

_NP (Non-deterministic Polynomial-time) is the class of problems for which an answer can be quickly verified, even if it can't be quickly figured out itself (whether or not being NP means it can be quickly figured out (i.e. whether P=NP) is arguably the biggest open question in Computer Science. Most people think not.) The halting problem is NP-hard, which means it is at least as hard as the hardest NP problem, but is itself not NP._

_The P versus NP Wikipedia page offers a pretty good overview of all this, and is a fascinating read if you're unfamiliar with the topic. I heartily recommend if you've got some time to kill._

_The relevant information for this story is that Ami made a very esoteric joke, that only someone with some education in computational theory would understand, which wouldn't translate well into Japanese anyway._

_I've decided to do away with all Japanese words unless there strictly is no English equivalent, or an element of the story relies on the Japanese word. So, Naruto calls Hiruzen 'old man' instead of jiji, the restaurant uses sir and madame instead of the Japanese honorifics, etc... I've always found that fanfic with the Japanese words sprinkled throughout always popped me out of the story, and feel kind of like the author was showing off. Maybe that's just me, but this is my story, so deal with it._


	15. Chapter 15: Propagation

**On the Ritual Apologizing for Update Delays**: Sorry about the long delay. My life got pretty hectic for a long while (still is, actually). I got a girlfriend, got an illness, and had the ever-present demands of post-secondary education. Also had my new computer break-twice!-for a total of about 2 months without a laptop, which made studying Computer Science somewhat of a logistical nightmare. The next update will be sometime, probably soon, but no promises.

**Disclaimer**: Let go your earthly tether. Enter the void. Empty, and become Kishimoto.

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* * *

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**Chapter 15: Wave Propagation**

After going over the provisions we'd need for a mission of this type, Kakashi gave us the rest of the day off to pack and rest. I stumbled home in a daze, my thoughts far away. We weren't ready to face Zabuza and Haku. Sure, we were almost certainly better prepared than canon Team 7, but that fight was only very marginally a victory. Could we win? Probably. Could we win without any of us being seriously injured or dying? That was much less certain than I'd like.

I tried to think through every way the fight could go, to determine what I needed to bring. I gave that up as hopeless pretty quickly. I didn't have a comprehensive enough idea of Zabuza's capabilities (or, honestly, Kakashi's) to be able to make accurate predictions. I decided to just bring everything I could carry. With storage seals, that meant pretty much everything I had.

I arrived at my room. It was a fairly large room relative to the size of the house, though still small compared to those I'd seen at some of the clan compounds. Most of the space was taken up by what my parents affectionately referred to as my "workshop". What had started as a small desk in the corner of the room had expanded over the years into a wall-to-wall workspace made up of tables and desks, with cupboards going from floor to ceiling. It was strewn with all manner of sealing supplies: parchment and brushes and ink took up much of the space, but there was also wood and stone tablets and some etching tools. Diagrams and notes and half-finished seals sat in messy piles. Scrolls and books littered the tables and filled the cupboards.

It was chaotic, but that didn't bother me. I knew where everything was, and I didn't really care if anyone else could make heads or tails of it. I set about sealing away everything that could possibly be useful. All of old standbys went into the storage seals sewn into my cloak for quick access. I also put in a few of the newer tricks I'd had a chance to test out in sparring. The rest (the unfinished, the unrefined and the untested) went into a separate scroll. I wouldn't be using any of those in combat, unless it was a part of a very specific plan. I hesitated over my latest and arguably greatest project. The theory was sound and I'd tested out the individual components, but I hadn't figured out yet how to test the seal as a whole without putting myself in great personal danger. No harm in bringing it, I supposed, so long as it remained a last resort.

As my hands worked my mind wandered. Storage seals were so rote at this point that they took very little concentration, which left plenty of attention free for unpleasant thoughts.

I'd never really given much thought to the whole issue of fate/determinism vs free will. Or, rather, I'd given it a fair bit of thought once and concluded that if free will existed, great, and if not, there was nothing I could do about it, so I might as well not waste time worry. Now, though…

Were we doomed to follow the original timeline despite the changes I made? Though this mission was technically by my choice, the alternative would have been the likely death of my parents. That was no choice at all. Now there would be a cruel joke, if we were forced to follow the timeline due to a series of "choices" where we realistically had no other option.

On the other hand, for us to follow the original timeline it would mean that no one close to me would die, and that we would triumph in the end. Now there was a comforting thought…

I shook my head. Too comforting. I couldn't afford the complacency of believing that if it turned out not to be true. It was still, at this point, only one event. One data point means nothing; it takes two to make a trend, and many more than that to make a statistically significant one. For now all this meant for the future was that my plans would incorporate a slightly higher chance of events from the original timeline occurring.

That may all prove moot anyway. First I had to make it through the next two weeks. This would be our first tempering, and I was somewhat worried I would turn out to be overly brittle and shatter. There was a very good chance that I would need to take a life, maybe even several.

I wasn't sure I had it in me.

I'd gone through the psychological conditioning with everyone else in the academy, but it hadn't had nearly the same effect on me that it had on most of my peers. I'd already been socialized once, in a society that sanctified life and vilified murder above all else. Could I really kill a man? Orphan his children, widow his wife? End his hopes and dreams, steal his potential, watch as the light left his eyes? I didn't know.

I had always been good at setting emotion aside and letting cold logic guide my actions, but could I really be that dispassionate? There was no way to know until the moment came.

I finished my preparations and my parents arrived home shortly after. Their joking and companionship throughout dinner served as a reminder of what I was working for and assuaged some of my worries, but my thoughts were still racing and my nerves were still jangling when I settled into bed a few hours later.

I did not sleep well.

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* * *

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Traveling with Naruto and Tazuna was about as annoying as I expected. Everyone of their interactions went pretty much the same way:

T: "You are a super stupid kid!"

N: "Nuh-uh, I am the best there ever was!"

T: "Just what a stupid kid would say!"

N: "Shut up! I'll be Hokage someday!"

T: "No you won't!"

N: "Yes I will!"

And so on and so on ad infinitum. Their constant bickering did little to help my ever-mounting anxiety. I spent almost all my time iterating through every technique I knew of Zabuza and Haku using, and how I would counter them. A portion of my attention was diverted to watching for suspicious looking puddles. I needed to be ready to react when the Demon Brothers attacked. If their opening salvo aimed at one of the genin, instead of Kakashi, there was a good chance we would not live through it.

The first day passed and there was no attack.

The second day passed and there was no attack.

The third day passed and there was no attack.

The fourth day passed and there was no attack.

The fifth day passed and there was no attack.

The sixth day passed and I thought I as going to lose my mind.

We would be arriving at the village the next day. The strain of constant vigilance combined with the apprehension that grew with every step we took left me an emotional wreck. My nightmares returned worse than ever. I set my sleeping roll apart from the rest of my team every night, and set up a silence seal around me. Partially so that my teammates wouldn't hear my screams, partially so that Zabuza wouldn't hear my screams over in the Land of Waves and know that we were coming.

The team dynamic felt weird. Sasuke seemed to have reverted back to his academy self, moody and taciturn. He was alright on the first day, but from the second day onward he had few words for anyone, none of them kind. Naruto was occupied arguing with Tazuna most of the time. Kakashi feigned an air of nonchalance, but I caught him watching us a few times. Judging our emotional states on our first real mission?

I hoped not: we would all certainly be found wanting.

The morning of our arrival dawned dismal and dreary. A drizzling rain had us all soaked by the time we broke camp, except for Kakashi, who remained conspicuously dry. Maybe one of his "over 1,000" jutsu was an umbrella.

We took a boat to the village shortly before noon. The skipper spoke to us tersely and brusquely, and our sandals had barely hit the dock before he was taking off again. Naruto had been dragging his feet and actually had to jump off the accelerating boat, lest he be taken back to the mainland. He shook his fists and yelled after the departing boatman, but I quickly shushed him, saying we didn't want to draw any attention to ourselves until we'd taken the lay of the land. That drew some glances from Kakashi and Sasuke. Tazuna _still_ hadn't told us about Gatō, so my continued paranoia must have seemed strange to them, but I didn't really care so long as they listened. I could always pass it off as first-mission jitters later, if we survived.

We headed for Tsunami's house, our first stop. As we walked I was struck by the eerie stillness and quiet that permeated the roadways and houses. Many of the buildings were recognizably dilapidated, despite the ease and nominal cost of some of the repairs. The few villagers we saw in the streets moved hurriedly, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast. Never before had I seen a people whose spirit had been so thoroughly crushed.

I was bringing up the rear when we crested the small hill that led down to Tsunami's house, so my first warning that something was amiss was Tazuna's despairing cry, and the sound of his knees splashing down into a puddle. I sprang forward and saw Tazuna kneeling with his head buried in his hands. Beyond him was a half-washed away mound of ash and burnt logs: all that remained of his daughter's house.

Naruto took a step towards the grieving old man, hand outstretched, but stopped, uncertainty plain on his face. Sasuke turned away. I didn't know if he was looking for enemies, or just couldn't bear the sight of such grief. My mind went into overdrive, thinking over the implications of this preemptive move. Alarm bells began to ring in a small corner of my mind, but I was distracted.

"Who could have done this?" Kakashi asked in a low voice.

Tazuna turned to face us, tears still streaming down his face. As he did, his knees splashed lightly in the puddle and I realized what was bothering me. _How was there a puddle on the slope of a hill?_

"G-" Tazuna began. I activated my speed seal and shot forward. As I did, I felt a faint flare of chakra from the puddle. Kakashi's muscles slowly—from my perspective—tensed, but he wasn't moving fast enough.

"-a-" Tazuna continued.

The vowel sound dragged on as I flew towards him. A trio of horns and the tops of two shaggy heads rose behind him.

I have never understood why tackling is always the method of choice for moving someone out of harm's way. Tackling displaces their body, yes, but replaces it with your body. There are so many other ways to move someone.

"-t-" Tazuna continued, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly as he began to notice the blur heading his way.

My feet caught him just under the armpit. I deactivated the seal and kicked off as I made contact, throwing myself backwards as my momentum threw him up and away. I was pretty sure I cracked one of his ribs, but at least he would live.

A spiked chain shot through the air where his head had been a split-second earlier.

The Demon Brothers emerged fully from the puddle and jumped backwards, taking partial cover in the rapidly thickening mist.

_Shit_.

"Kakashi," I said as Team 7 fell into formation. "Metal gauntlets. Demon Brothers. Known associates of Zabuza. Demon of the Hidden _Mist_." I gestured around us.

He nodded his understanding. "Sasuke, Naruto, with Ami. Protect the client. Show these jokers what Shinobi of the Leaf can do."

With that, he disappeared into the mists.

Made sense. He could defeat the Demon Brothers quickly and easily, but the distraction that afforded would give Zabuza an opening. Risking himself to save us would be counterproductive if it left us facing off against an S-class ninja. The safest thing was to leave us to fight our own battle, and to make sure we weren't slaughtered like cattle afterward.

"What?" Naruto yelled, "Where is he going?"

"Shhh!" I said, as Tazuna and Sasuke said "Shut up!" in unison.

"He's gone off to fight someone way out of our league."

"A strong guy? Where? Let me at him!" Naruto jumped forward, breaking the triangle formation we'd made around Tazuna.

I opened my mouth to admonish him, but Tazuna beat me to it. He grabbed Naruto and pulled him back in.

"Idiot. My daughter and grandson are dead, and you better get your head out of your ass unless you want your teammates to end up the same way. This is no joke."

While he spoke I sent instructions to Sasuke using hand signals. The mist and having to protect Tazuna was going to make this very difficult. It would require some precise co-ordination and timing. Konoha's ninja sign wasn't a fully-fledged language in the way ASL or FSL, and we weren't that practiced in it yet, but it was enough for this purpose. Sasuke was facing mostly away from me, but we'd practiced signing in peripheral vision before. He flashed me an affirmative and I turned slightly towards Naruto and repeated the same signs, albeit much slower.

As I did, I pulled several scrolls out of my cloak with my other hand. I tossed them around us, one for each point of the triangle, and exerted a small effort of will. I also threw out some explosive tags. I was limited to fairly weak ones with Tazuna in the vicinity, but maybe I'd get lucky and one of the Brothers would step right on one.

And now we waited.

Seconds passed.

I strained my eyes, trying to pick out shapes in the impenetrable mist. Every shadow was a ninja charging in to take my life. I was on the verge of screaming. I could tell from their shifting weight and tensing muscles that the boys weren't much better off. This tension was going to kill us before the Demon Brothers even got a chance. I had to say something.

"Just remember guys, Team 7 has never lost a fight," I said, forcing a grin onto my face.

Not terribly original, but cut a girl some slack, will you? Fear of impending death and the threat of imminent violence are not great fuel for wisecracking.

I heard some nervous titters from Sasuke and Naruto as I felt a brief pressure on one of the barrier seals I'd thrown down and then they were upon us.

"Sasuke!" I yelled, and our triangle pivoted. Naruto and I turned and stepped forward to flank as they came in on Sasuke. We wouldn't have been fast enough, but breaking through the barrier had stolen some of their speed. They'd also chosen the most agile of us as their target.

Sasuke flowed under the spiked chain as it shot forward, sprang up to avoid a leg sweep and danced back on his heels to avoid a punch that would've ripped him from throat to groin. That left him open on his left side to a follow-up by the two-horned brother, but Naruto and his legions had arrived.

Naruto after Naruto slammed into the missing-nin, keeping him off-balance. I stepped forward and launched into a taijutsu combination on the brother on the right. He turned to deal with me, which opened up his flank for Sasuke to attack. He stepped in and landed a glancing blow on the larger ninja, but his follow-up was stopped by the other brother, whose attack forced him back. That attack in turn left the brother vulnerable to Naruto, who had been struggling after his initial momentum wore off, but now got in a free shot.

Two-horn turned back to face the diminutive ninja, and Sasuke stepped in. I fought the urge to smile. We were out-coordinating the Demon Brothers, famed (inasmuch as any chūnin are famed) for their chemistry! Our attacks were having relatively little effect against the larger, stronger ninja, but they would add up.

I strained my ears, listening for sounds of Zabuza and Kakashi's fight. Even if we beat these two, it would all be for naught if Kakashi lost. I felt pressure against the barrier opposite behind us. That must be Tazuna. He had hit the ground and rolled away as planned when I'd yelled Sasuke's name. He obviously didn't understand ninja sign, but some emphatic pointing had gotten the point across. I dropped the barrier to let him through and put it back up a second later, hopefully with him on the other side.

I nearly caught a gauntlet to the face while my concentration was elsewhere, but a quick move by Sasuke diverted the attack upwards, and I just lost a bit of a haircut. I nodded my thanks and refocused on the task at hand.

It was going well. The brothers' attacks were beginning to slow, as our hits and the fatigue of swinging around those heavy gauntlets added up. It was only a matter of time before one of us would land a decisive blow and end this. We also had a few small injuries from near-misses, but we'd been able to keep each other relatively safe. The fight was essentially over, we just needed to play out the steps. And so it would have been, were it not for one thing we had forgotten.

The spiked chain.

It retracted suddenly, cutting a swathe through Naruto's clones and biting deep into Sasuke's back, throwing him forward and into the mist.

"One down," the brothers cackled.

I cursed my stupidity. Of course the chain could retract. What good would it be if it could only extend? I'd been too distracted with my seals and with Kakashi's fight to fully pay attention, and Sasuke had paid the price. Fuck. _Fuck_.

No, there would be time for recrimination later. The back could take a lot of punishment, as it was mostly muscle and fat. That was why it was the target of choice for whipping: large potential for pain, small potential for death or maiming. Sasuke would most likely survive, but we needed to defeat these two before they had the chance to go finish him off.

I glanced quickly at Naruto. I wasn't terribly worried about him. He had his clones to help him, and besides, he was starting to look rather…vulpine.

My own situation was much more dire. The missing-nin in front of me was bigger than me, stronger than me, faster than me, and more skilled than me. Without Sasuke's help I would be hard-pressed to stay alive, let alone fight back.

My only hope was that I was more prepared than he was. I had one shot that I could see. If that failed, I would have to get creative.

We exchanged blows for a couple more seconds, and I got myself a nice set of abrasions and a cut on my arm to show for it. A split second longer, and—there. I was ready now. I presented an opening up high and he stepped in swinging, rightly confident.

Or at least his confidence would have been rightly placed, were it not for the fact that my speed seal had just finished recharging. I activated it, ducking lazily under the blow that now seemed to be just inching along.

I had to finish this quickly and decisively, which really left only one option other than murder, which I still wanted to avoid if I could. I darted in, headed for his extended leg.

It was refreshing, using my speed seal against someone other than Kakashi. He restricted his speed so much in our spars, and went to full speed when I was using the speed seal, so he barely seemed to slow down at all. By contrast, the chūnin in front of me was practically standing still.

I ended up just in front and slightly to the side of him. I raised my foot and slammed it downward and sideways, right at the crook of his knee. The speed seal gave me some time to consider my action.

I winced in preemptive sympathy. This man was probably a terrible person. I didn't know much about him, but he was willing to kill children for a few dollars. More personally motivating, he was trying to kill me and my friends.

Still.

Being crippled was every shinobi's nightmare, and I was about to cripple this man. Horribly, irrevocably, probably-never-walk-again crippled. If I didn't, my friends would be in life-threatening danger.

That wasn't even a decision.

You may think I was overstating the strength of my kick. I wasn't, and therein lay the problem. To take him out of the fight with one kick, even one to the knee, would require me to hit hard enough to break bones and/or cartilage. That would take a fair bit of force, unless I got the perfect angle. I was a small 12-year-old girl, coming in at approximately 65 pounds soaking wet. He was a muscular man who had to be at least 200 pounds, most of it muscle. I wasn't willing to risk it all on the chance that I landed the perfect kick.

Luckily (for me), I had a trick up my sleeve. Or rather, on my sandal. It was originally intended to provide some extra propulsion to help throw me out of the way of an attack, but it would work here.

As my foot made contact with his knee, I deactivated the speed seal and activated the explosive seal I'd inscribed along the sole of my sandal. As it was intended for propulsion, I'd left out the heat, but the concussive blast was more than enough.

There was a low _whump_, follow by a sickening crack and a heart-wrenching scream that haunts my nightmares to this day.

I stumbled backwards. When I got my feet back under me I found myself facing Naruto and his opponent. They stood a few paces apart, the signs of their struggle evident. Naruto was covered in blood, but his wounds all seemed to have closed, or at least staunched. The Demon Brother, down on one knee, was not so lucky.

"Finish it, then," the defeated man said.

Naruto stood there, unmoving, fists clenched at his sides.

"You don't have the guts, do you?" the missing-nin said, his voice gaining strength. "Fuckin' kids, out here pretending to be ninja, when they won't even…"

He shifted his weight as he talked, and I saw his hand slip into his cloak.

"Naruto!" I yelled, as the chūnin sprang forward, kunai extended towards Naruto's heart.

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_You know what everyone's favorite thing is after a 5-month hiatus? A cliffhanger! Honestly, though, the next chapter should come much sooner. I'm not going to promise when, because I'll be wrong, but it should be much sooner than that. The next couple chapters are the ones I've been looking forward to writing since I started the story._

_Tune in next time to find out if Naruto makes it out of this scrape! Hey, don't laugh. You don't know how many chapters I plan to write, or what they'll contain. Maybe all of Team 7 dies in the next chapter and then Ami wakes up from a dream and then the story follows Ami's struggles as a young professional in a technical, male-dominated workforce. Don't test me._

_Also tune in to find out if I have the authorial audacity to load a Chekhov's gun as large as the vaguely-referred-to-"arguably greatest project" and then leave it sitting on the mantelpiece. Has it been sufficiently foreshadowed to not feel like an ass-pull when it saves the day? Only one way to find out!_

_I couldn't find anywhere that is explicitly says that Zabuza is S-class, but the databooks do day he's completed S-class missions, which is good enough for me._

_I hope I don't need to say this, but just in case: Comments/thoughts in this story in no way represents my thoughts on people with disabilities (or most things, for that matter). It takes place in a society loosely based on feudal Japan, so there's some, uh, outdated thinking._

_To respond to a few reviews: I said I'd leave out honorifics unless they were a plot point. You should make the assumption that everyone is using the normal, correct honorific most of the time, even though I'm not writing it. There are a few cases where I will include them, like in chapter 3, because they add to the story._


	16. Chapter 16: Resonance

**A/N: **

**On Updates**: Been super busy, blah, blah, you don't care. Story does still live, just with a sporadic schedule. Will probably still be a while between chapters, though hopefully not nearly as long as this time.

**Disclaimer:** Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by Kishimoto.

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**Chapter 16:**** Wave Resonance**

Sasuke's kunai took him in the eye.

The momentum of his charge carried him onward, but it was no longer guided by an intelligence, no longer driven by firing muscles. He must've died almost instantly. His kunai, held in now-limp fingers, scored a glancing blow on Naruto but was mostly deflected by the genin's thick jacket.

I heard a clanking in the mist, followed by a thud. I ran to it and found Sasuke face down, spiked chain still embedded in his back. A thin trail of blood lay behind him. He must have dragged himself back to the fight, hoping to provide that critical bit of help that could turn the tide. Which, indeed, he had. Looking at the extent of his wounds, I almost wished that he'd stayed put.

"Naruto, get over here, we need you!" I yelled. I ran over to where my cloak had fallen and reached into it to pull out several storage scrolls. These disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving behind a mountain of scrolls, all inscribed with the same seal. The wind picked up, blowing a few of the seals around.

Naruto stumbled out of the mist, looking dazed, eyes glazed over.

"Ami, I—"

"Later. Right now Sasuke needs our help." I started gathering up the scrolls.

Naruto shook himself and his eyes focused on Sasuke's prone form.

"Oh, Kami…What can I do?" he asked.

"We're going to have to pull that chain out. When we do, he's going to start bleeding. A lot. These scrolls contain a small amount of medical chakra. They will help him heal. I've never tried it on a wound this large, so I'm not—" No. Naruto was in a delicate place psychologically right now, he needed confidence. "—but it sh-will be enough to stabilize him. Take these." I gave him a handful of seals, clutching them tightly against the mounting wind. "As soon as we pull the chain out, put those seals all along the wound. Once a seal stops glowing, remove it and put a new one in its place. Ready?" He nodded grimly.

I grasped the chain and began to slowly pull it out, one spike at a time. The spikes made a sickeningly wet sound as they were removed, like the noise made by pulling your boot out of mud. Naruto followed after me, diligently placing healing seals over the exposed wounds.

I hoped it would be enough. I'd never figured out the knack of generating enough medical chakra for any practical application, but I had figured out how to store the small amount I could make in a seal. That was no more useful on its own than applying it by hand, but where a drop of rain would do nothing, a torrential downpour might make a difference. I was working on a way to chain the smaller seals together, or at least store more chakra per seal, but I hadn't figured it out yet. These would have to be enough.

I threw the bloodied chain to the side, and sank to the ground. Naruto placed the final seal and went back to stand over the first seal he'd put down, ready to replace it the second it began flagging. I placed a couple of the medical seals on myself. I'd received only minor injuries, but a I'd begun to feel light-headed, and a small scratch could still be deadly, if it were poisoned. I had to hope that the Demon Brothers only poisoned their gauntlets, not their chain, or no amount of seals would help Sasuke.

Naruto began switching out the blood-soaked seals for fresh ones. I activated the seals as he placed them down. As we worked, the wind reached a screaming peak. Naruto dove forward to hold the seals on Sasuke's back in place as the now-gale-force winds buffeted us.

The air stilled a few heartbeats later. Brief though the squall had been, it took the mist with it when it left. Now that it was clear I could Zabuza and Kakashi locked in combat perhaps a hundred paces from us, by the water.

They moved almost too fast for me to follow, and they were not alone. Shadow clone fought water clone in a furious melee. Swords swung wildly as the Kakashis darted around. Flashes of fire and lightning met waves of water. Several ninken sat off to the side, looking somewhat worse for wear. The fighting looked like it had been fairly even: Kakashi's clones were more numerous, but were destroyed much more easily.

A high-pitched screech filled the air, and one of the Kakashis darted to the side and shot forward, arm extended. His Chidori cut through a line of water clones, leaving only one to face a wall of copy-cat ninjas. They turned towards him, and were thus caught by surprise when the—presumably—real Zabuza emerged from the water behind them, shooting out a thin blade of water which cut a swathe through the line of Kakashis.

There was a beat of relative stillness while the two master ninja contemplated each other. Kakashi had a long gash down one arm, and seemed to be favoring his left leg. Zabuza had an angry red burn along one side of his face and bled from several smaller cuts, but still looked in fairly good condition. That shouldn't matter now. With the mist dispersed, Kakashi would be able to use his Sharingan to its full effect. If they had been relatively evenly matched until now, that would tip the scales heavily in his favor.

They moved simultaneously, slamming back together with incredible speed and violence. They exchanged a flurry of blows, separating a second later. Zabuza now bled from several new spots. With his Sharingan, Kakashi was able to dodge the swings of Zabuza's monstrous sword almost before they'd begun. The threat of it still prevented him from landing a blow that was solid enough to bring down someone as tough as Zabuza, but it was only a matter of time before Zabuza slipped up or started to succumb to his numerous smaller injuries.

The high-pitched screech of the chidori filled the air once more. That was another way Kakashi could end this. Probably safer than the patient route, as it gave Zabuza less time to get creative. As the saying goes: The only thing more dangerous than a desperate jōnin is a desperate kage. Zabuza's eyes flicked towards Kakashi's glowing hand, then over to where I stood near the boys. He moved, and suddenly a massive wave was rushing towards us.

I instinctively activated my speed seal and began running to the side. Two steps in, I turned back. Naruto was still crouched over Sasuke's prone form. He'd started to pick up the unconscious Uchicha, but there was no way they could get out of the way in time. Naruto couldn't have escaped the wave even if he'd started running the second it was created.

There was nothing I could do. Even if I could get there in time to put down a barrier, the wave would go through it like so much tissue paper. The logical, tactician's part of my brain was already estimating survival likelihoods, and planning how to win the ensuing fight while maximizing Naruto and Sasuke's chances. Naruto would likely be gravely injured, but with his jinchuriki's toughness there was little chance this would kill him, unless he drowned, which might be a distinct possibility. Sasuke, on the other hand, was already in critical condition. The bone-crushing force of the wave would end him for sure.

The rest of my brain was screaming. I couldn't lose them. Not yet. We still had so much left to do. Besides, Sasuke…

Then Kakashi was there. He planted himself in front of the wave like a lineman preparing to be tackled. His hands flashed through a series of seals, and he threw them out as if the wave were an old friend he was greeting with a hug. It ignored the friendly gesture and slammed into him with the momentum of a thousand tonnes of rushing water. He was driven backwards, his feet digging furrows in the soft ground. He let out a yell and dug in deeper, and the wave began to slow.

He stopped his uncontrolled slide, and began stepping carefully backward, stealing more and more of the water's momentum with every inch he ceded. He took the last step a dozen yards from us, and was left standing there with his arms forward, the water stopped as if his arms supported an invisible wall.

I realized I'd been standing still, awed at the feat of strength I was witnessing, and burst into action.

"Naruto, we need to move. Now. Clones."

The water was quickly draining away to the sides and behind, but it would still be several seconds before enough of it had gone for it to be safe to drop on Sasuke. That was an eternity in a clash between ninja of Kakashi and Zabuza's caliber. I reached Sasuke's side as the clones started appearing. I kept his back as immobile as I could while he was borne away on a sea of orange.

I ran after them, trying to put as much distance between Kakashi and myself as possible. I turned back to face Kakashi just as Zabuza came shooting out of the wall of water. Kakashi ducked under the leading sword swing, but as Zabuza passed over Kakashi he trailed tendrils of water, which dropped down, ensnaring Kakashi.

Zabuza performed a series of hand seals, and all the nearby water shot towards Kakashi, compressing into an all-too-familiar sphere. Kakashi struggled, but he was held fast.

One of the Narutos jumped out of the crowd. "Sensei!"

"Run!" Kakashi shouted desperately, "Both of you, run! Take Sasuke and get out of here! You can't fight him. Live, please Kami, live!"

"Listen to your sensei, kiddos." Zabuza grinned cruelly. "If he couldn't take me, then you don't have a guppy's chance in a waterfall."

"You only beat him because you cheated!" Naruto yelled, angrily stepping closer to Zabuza.

Good, keep talking. A plan was forming.

"We're ninja. There's no such thing as cheating. The strong live and the weak die. That's just how the world works. Your sensei was strong, yes, but he made a fatal mistake." Zabuza hefted his sword menacingly. "When the strong try to protect the weak, they become weak themselves."

"Run, you idiots! Stop talking and…run!" Kakashi started to sound out of breath. The water prison was preventing him from breathing? That put a time limit on things, though one long enough to be relatively unimportant. "You…can't…die…again!"

"Don't worry, sensei, we can take on this little fishy," Naruto said, stepping even closer to Zabuza, who growled but otherwise did nothing. "We'll have you out of there in no time," he continued. He took another step, and Zabuza exploded into action, extending his one arm behind him, his other arm spinning his sword around to cut through Naruto…'s shadow clone.

Phew. I was 99% confident that was a clone, but with Naruto you never knew. Another of the Narutos stepped out of the mass and spoke to me under his breath, "I'm pretty sure he has to stay close to that water ball thing. He didn't attack the clone until I—he—it—stepped within sword reach."

"Nice going, I can work with that," I replied in the same quiet tone. I'd already known that, but there was no way for him to know that, and it was some good scouting work. "Be ready to make a whole lot of clones and go where I tell you."

Zabuza had grown tired of waiting and had, as expected, summoned a water clone to deal with us. Only one clone. Exhaustion or (over?)confidence? I filed that away.

"Naruto, dogpile," I said, pointing at the clone.

"On it."

The newly-made Zabuza disappeared under an avalanche of yelling Narutos. He whipped his massive sword back and forth, felling them like orange wheat stocks, but it would still keep him occupied. Naruto couldn't keep up this rate of clone production for long, but it would have to be long enough.

So, I needed to get Zabuza to move. Might as well start with the obvious. I threw a pair of exploding-tag-wrapped kunai. His sword went snicker-snack, and the kunai were knocked away. Unsurprising. I had seals that could make a big enough explosion to hit him from the reach of his sword, but none of them were small enough to be thrown.

I glanced over at the clones. The water clone was starting to gain ground; I needed to hurry this up.

I pulled out another set of seal-wrapped kunai and threw them at Zabuza. As they passed within the arc of his sword, I squeezed my eyes shut, turned my head to the side, activated the silence seal sewn into my bodysuit, and released the seals on the kunai.

The insides of my eyelids turned bright red and, though I couldn't hear it with my seal up, a peal of thunder rang out. Normal explosive seals produced sound and light, but they were mostly afterthoughts, with most of the seal's energy going towards the flame and force (though, interestingly, the light and sound were made by a totally different part of the seal, probably added unconsciously by early seals masters because that's how they thought explosions should be). It turned out that if you decided to forgo the explosion, and divert that energy into the sensory-affecting aspects, you could get a pretty big bang for your buck.

I opened my eyes and dashed forward. Zabuza stumbled a bit, eyes darting wildly. I knew from personal experience that if he'd been looking right at the blast, it would be several seconds before his eyes would be able to make out even rough shapes. He seemed to realize the predicament he was in. He made a hand seal and dissolved, his body flowing into the water prison.

_Damn_. The same technique the Demon Brothers had used to hide themselves in the puddle, presumably. I'd tried to find information on it years ago, on the off-chance I did ever come up against someone who use it, but the Konoha library hadn't known much about it. How did it work? Was Zabuza still corporeally in the water somehow, in a specific place? Was he dispersed throughout the whole body of water? Would damaging the water that contained him hurt him? What if it was split into several different bodies of water? Would he end up entirely in one? Would he be split in half?

_Didn't matter,_ I thought as I reached the water prison. My main objective was freeing Kakashi. I would just have to do it before Zabuza recovered and reemerged from the water. If damaging the water that contained him hurt him, so much the better.

Breaking the water prison was no easy prospect. Mere force of arms would do very little. The water constantly swirled around; any cut would be instantly repaired. Luckily, I had foreknowledge working for me. I'd spent much of the evening before we left devising a way to destroy water constructs, with this one specifically in mind. I wasn't positive it would work, but well, here I was. My only other option was asking nicely, a technique I was even less confident in.

I drew two modified explosive seals out of my cloak, placing the first one on the side of the sphere of water. Where most explosive seals were exothermic, this one was endothermic, pulling heat into itself rather than spreading it outward. It had proved surprisingly easy to create, the equivalent of putting minus signs in a few places.

I activated the implosive seal (not technically correct, but it was the opposite of an explosive seal, so proper nomenclature be damned), and ice spread across the sphere in a flash. I followed this with a concussive seal, and the ice shattered. I activated my speed seal and darted into the resulting hole, deactivating it to grab Kakashi and throw us backward. I didn't know if the water prison could reform itself with a third of its water frozen and blown away, but I didn't want to take any chances.

We began to land in a tangle, but the instant we touched the ground, Kakashi's arms shot out and he flipped himself upright. He immediately oriented on the deteriorating water prison, eyes darting around, hand glowing, muscles coiled.

Suddenly he dashed forward, striking just as Zabuza emerged from the water. Water sprayed outward as the chidori raked the missing-nin from shoulder to hip, leaving a blackened gash across his body. He flopped to the ground, landing face down with a splash in the wake of the water prison. A dozen paces distant, Kakashi fell to his knees, breathing haggard.

I stepped cautiously toward Zabuza, wary that he might be faking the degree of his incapacitation. His mouth and nose were under the layer of water that now covered the battlefield. If he didn't move soon he would drown. I decided to wait a couple seconds to see if he could move under his own power. Kakashi's state concerned me, but I needed to make sure the threat was eliminated before I checked on him.

Zabuza slowly, painfully, pushed himself up with one arm and flipped himself over, screaming in anguish. As he did so, I activated my seal and sped toward him. It didn't have much charge left, but I didn't want to risk getting this near to Zabuza without it, no matter how injured he seemed, and it should just be enough for me to get in and out. I drew forth an explosive tag—one of the few seals I had stored in my bodysuit, I'd have to retrieve my cloak to get more—and placed it on his chest, then jumped backward and placed my hands in snake seal. I could activate the explosions without a hand seal, but it was faster if I had the hand seal already made, and also a more obvious threat.

In the split second before my speed ran out, I saw several senbon lazily—by the standards of senbon—floating forward to embed themselves in Zabuza's neck. He stopped moving entirely.

So, Haku was here.

The fake hunter-nin materialized a few seconds later, approaching from his hiding spot in a nearby tree. By the time he made it over to me and Zabuza's "corpse", Kakashi had pulled himself together, though he was still swaying on his feet. Naruto arrived as well, half-carrying a stumbling Sasuke.

_He really shouldn't be moving right now_, I thought, but I was too happy to see him conscious and mostly upright to say anything. I felt a small chill as I looked at him and saw a pair of tomoe looking back at me, but that was nothing compared to the relief I felt that he was alright. I smiled broadly at him, and he answered it with a small, crooked, pained smile of his own.

I was about to say something when I saw Haku bowing to us. Right. Life-or-death situation first, catching up with teammates later. I must have been getting tired, normally I wasn't so distractable.

"Thank you for helping to eliminate my target," he said, voice stiff and formal. "That is a dangerous man, whom I have been pursuing for some time."

I glanced over at Kakashi. He looked like he was barely holding on to consciousness. _I guess I can take the lead on this_—

"HEY! Who the hell are you!? What's with that stupid mask?" Naruto shouted, stepping forward and nearly dropping Sasuke, who grunted and slowly sank into a half-sitting, half-lying down position.

_Or not._

"I am a hunter-nin of the hidden mist. My job is to hunt down missing-nin like this one, end them, and dispose of their corpses. Now, if you will allow me, I would like to perform the second half of my duties. Every second his corpse remains intact is an intelligence risk." He looked towards me, though it was impossible to read his face through his mask.

"A few questions first," I said. "Are you sure he's dead?"

"Yes. My needles in the neck like that are always fatal."

"How will you dispose of the body?"

He paused very briefly, then said "Fire is the usual method."

"In that case, how about I just blow this explosive tag right now, that should take—"

"No!" He yelled, taking an involuntary step towards his master. "Er, no," he said, regaining his composure, "there are special procedures to be taken, protocols to be followed. So, if I can just…" He took another step.

"One more step and he explodes," I said.

"Uh, Ami? What are you doing?" Naruto was looking between me and Haku, confusion plain on his face.

"Don't try anything," I said to Haku. "I can activate that seal with a thought, and no matter how fast you are, my thoughts are faster." I turned slightly towards Naruto, not taking my eyes off Haku. "Something is off. If I had to guess, I'd say these two were working together and Zabuza is still alive, though incapacitated. I could be wrong, but that seems likely, so I'm taking precautions."

Haku put his hands up in the universal sign for non-agression and took a step backward. "Listen, I'm sure we can work some—"

A pair of arrows slammed into Kakashi's chest. I instinctively activated my speed seal just as I felt the tip of an arrow begin to penetrate my shoulder. I wrenched myself out down and sideways, feeling my stomach muscles tear as I stressed them beyond what they could physically bear. My speed ran out a split second later, and I hit the ground, two more arrows whistling over my head.

_Fuck._

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_I really didn't want to leave you with this cliffhanger, but the way the word counts and story flow worked out it was my only option._

_The cliffhanger I had intended to leave you with turned out to be too many words away._


	17. Chapter 17: Scattering

**A/N: **

**Disclaimer: **There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is Kishimoto.

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**Chapter 17: Wave Scattering**

I pushed myself up, overruling the protestation of torn muscles, and surveyed the situation. Sasuke and Kakashi were down. Haku had removed the explosive tag from Zabuza and now stood over him, protecting him from any stray arrows. And, as it turned out, stray Narutos. The orange-clad genin had launched himself at the pair of missing-nin just after the arrows hit. His left arm hung limply, one arrow through the biceps, another embedded in the meaty part of his shoulder. That would probably be fine: Haku didn't seem like the type to kill without reason, and from what I'd seen Naruto could heal from any injury short of death.

I turned my attention to the arrows. Bows and arrows had an interesting interaction with ninja. Most ninja of chūnin level or higher could dodge an arrow they were prepared for with relative ease. Many ninja above chūnin could completely shrug off arrows, especially if they had time to activate a technique. Still, there were three situations where arrows were a threat to ninja: sufficient numbers, surprise, and already being incapacitated.

Surprise was gone now, but Sasuke and Kakashi were incapacitated. They would need to be protected. I did not have the skills to block arrows aimed at them without getting hit; I would be hard-pressed to dodge them myself. I had a single pair of barrier seals stored in my bodysuit, which I could use to block the arrows for now. I had more in my cloak, but with the amount of water that had been thrown around it was not where it had washed to, and I did not have time to go searching.

Judging by the angle of the shots, all the archers were fairly closely grouped, along an approximately thirty degree arc. I threw the seals off to either side, forming a wide barrier close to the downed ninja, to cut off as wide an area as possible. Getting and angle past the barrier to my teammates would require going over water on one side, and passing through an area with no cover on the other.

I quickly counted the arrows. Ten had arrived in the first salvo. Good. Almost all (non-ninja) militaries used squads of ten for their smaller operations, following the guidelines laid out in _The Principles of War_, a book written centuries ago by a—possibly fictitious—general whose small village militia had repelled and eventually counter-invaded the forces of an entire nation. The book had revolutionized the art of war at the time, and most modern commanders followed it religiously. I had not only read it, but essentially memorized it. Not because it had good ideas—it did, but few would apply to me as I never intended to lead a non-ninja force (or even a ninja force, unless things went really sideways). Rather, I'd memorized it because I cannot stress enough the idiocy of basing all your strategies on a book that can be found at any library. Prediction of your opponent's movements is nine-tenths of outmaneuvering them, and if you'd literally read the book on them…

I digress. Point was, I could be fairly certain that the ten archers were the extent of their company. They were putting arrows on us at a range of at least three hundred meters, which implied a high level of training and quality of equipment that was not found outside of military or pseudo-military group. And if there'd been another entire squad they would've fired on us all at once, to get the most out of the surprise factor, the largest advantage they could get over ninja.

So that threat was neutralized, at least for now. Which just left Haku.

_Just left Haku_. One of the strongest ninja our age. Heh, even that early on I'd had a pretty skewed sense of scale.

Parley was my best option. The appearance of new players meant the possibility of a common enemy. Though, given the timing of the attack, I had a sinking feeling that I knew who their employer was. Still, if nothing else, talking would give me time to come up with a better strategy.

"Naruto, back off," I said, shooting a glare at the still-attacking genin. "And you, stranger-who-probably-works-for-Gato, you were saying just a few seconds ago how we could work something out. That still on the table?"

And time for us to lick our wounds a bit. Naruto was not in good shape, and neither was I. He was still covered in cuts-likely poisoned-from fighting the Demon Brothers. Two arrows still protruded from his arm, and Haku had given him another round of abrasions. His whiskers had deepened and his nails extended, but I couldn't see any other fox manifestations, nor feel any demonic chakra.

Haku looked between us as Naruto gave him some space, though I couldn't read his face. Damn, I hated masks. "Perhaps, though the tableau has changed since then."

I wasn't in much better shape. My external injuries were much less dire than Naruto's, but my constitution was correspondingly weaker. And the muscle tearing from overusing my speed seal would make it difficult for me to do any fast or fluid movement that involved my core, which is to say pretty much any taijutsu or even dodging.

"The tableau has changed, yes, but is it necessarily more in your favor now? I notice several of those arrows nearly hit you and your master, and would have without your intervention."

My injuries were not going to improve over a relevant timescale. Naruto's might. I was nearly out of seals. My speed seal was recharging, but it wouldn't do me much good if I was unable to even function at normal speed. No, Naruto was our path to winning this fight, if it came to blows. But he couldn't beat Haku in his current state…

"That's something we will have to discuss with them after we're done here. Now—"

"Are you sure this isn't a "retirement package" he's arranged for you?" I spoke quickly, frantically. "That's something Gato does so he doesn't have to pay ninja prices for ninja services. Let me guess, this is your first job for him? Or at least your first big job? Those arrows weren't aimed at you accidentally. What loyalty do you owe to someone who is trying to have you killed?"

This was knowledge I shouldn't have, and saying it here was a calculated risk, but I figured I was fairly safe. Haku had no way of knowing what intelligence resources I had at my disposal, and would likely never be in a situation where he could—or would—discuss this with someone from Konoha. Sasuke and Kakashi were both out. Naruto was Naruto. This might actually convince him, and if not, would at least buy me a little more time.

He pondered my words briefly. "Even if that is true, that's not my call to make." He glanced at the prone form beside him. "I will protect Zabuza-sama until he wakes, and he will decide."

A plan was beginning to form. A terrible, stupid, dangerous, insane plan.

"What if—"

I would need my speed seal, Naruto's affection, and a mountain of good fortune.

"No, that's enough talking. You have your important people to protect and I have mine. I'll try not to hurt you any more than necessary. I'm sorry."

The way my life went I was pretty sure I'd have to make do with two out of three.

I dove forward as Haku shot into motion. He grabbed a pair of senbon and flung them at Naruto. I pulsed my speed seal, turning it on and off to ensure I got the timing just right.

I threw myself in front of Naruto head first, torn muscles turning my graceful jump into a clumsy tumble. I used the last of my speed seal to pluck the senbon that were about to hit Naruto out of the air.

And slammed them into the fleshy parts of my neck.

I collapsed in front of Naruto, not bothering to hide my grimace of pain. I'd been careful to avoid anything major, but pointy bits of metal in the neck are never comfortable.

I reached up towards my teammate. "Naruto, I…" And I went limp.

"No!" he yelled, clenching his fists.

My hands had moved too fast for any but the fastest—or dojutsu wielding—ninja to follow, and Naruto was neither of those. All he had seen was a teammate take a metaphorical bullet for him.

The underpinnings of my plan were simple. I could not fight Haku with the resources I had. Naruto could not fight Haku in his current state. I could not get more resources. Therefore Naruto had to change states.

Red power exploded out of him, wreathing him in flames from head to foot. It brushed lightly against me, and I nearly fainted for real as I got my first taste of the Kyuubi's chakra.

_Rage_. Pure, limitless, all-consuming rage. Rage against the heavens, rage against the abyss, rage against everything that lay between.

_Hatred_. Deep and abiding. Older than any man, with a corresponding fury no mortal could match. Younger than the mountains, but with an intensity that could shatter them in an instant.

_Power_. Above all else, power. Power to crush and destroy, to rend and rip, to utterly annihilate. Power to spit in the face of the gods, to reshape the world at one's whim, to carve a swathe through history.

My skin burned where the demonic chakra touched me, but that was as nothing to the burning in my mind.

I was terrified.

Fear normally held little sway over me, as I'd mastered it with logic long ago. This was different. This was a deep, primal fear. It was the fear of prey before a predator; of the deer fleeing the wolf, the mouse in the talons of the eagle, the rabbit in the jaws of the fox. Logic fled in the face of such fear, protestations that Naruto was my friend and wouldn't hurt me dying stillborn as my instincts screamed at me to flee: plans, strategy, teammates be damned.

But beneath the fear was another emotion, one I hadn't expected: envy. The chakra was awful, yes, but it was awful in both senses of the word. There was a magnificence to it, a solidity, a depth I'd never felt before. If I had that power, or even a fraction of that power, oh the things I could do. The wrongs I could right. the injustices I could stop…

A small, dark corner of my mind, one that spent much of its time reliving an event from four years ago, whispered _The vengeance I could take_…

Naruto moved away and the fear abated somewhat. I pulled myself back together and cast my mind back a few seconds.

Luckily, my reaction to the terror had been to freeze, which worked well with my strategy of playing dead. Naruto had snarled and disappeared from my sight, moving faster than I'd ever seen from him. The sounds of combat had soon reached my ears, interspersed with growls and the sound of shattering ice.

I rolled over just in time to see Naruto destroy the last of Haku's mirrors, moving straight through the ice as though it wasn't there. He struck Haku across the face, knocking the smaller—no, wait, larger—ninja to the ground. His mask shattered and he lay there, unmoving, Naruto standing over him.

Naruto shook, panting, red flames seeming to drip from his mouth as he breathed. Where his chakra touched Haku the prone ninja's skin began to bubble and blacken. He raised his hand, muscles tensing, arm aimed at Haku's heart.

"No!" I yelled, and shunshined between them, stifling a scream as my tortured muscles were forced to move at high speeds. I pushed Naruto back a step, to get Haku and I out of the burning chakra, singing my hands as I did so.

There were several excellent reasons not to have Naruto kill Haku. The first was simply the sanctity of life. Haku was a missing-nin, and by most definitions a murderer, yes, but he was also a kind soul desperately searching for a home, acting as Zabuza's tool only because he'd had nowhere else to turn. Which brings us to the second reason: he was a potential asset. Konoha was by no means a paradise, but from all I knew and had seen, it was the best place—perhaps the only place—in the ninja world where a kind-hearted shinobi could not only survive, but thrive. Haku was, by all accounts, a skilled ninja, and would only grow stronger in the coming years. Taking a long view of things, we wanted to begin stacking the deck on our side should the Fourth Shinobi war, or something similar, still break out. Keeping him alive would also keep him from being reincarnated by Kabuto, so not only was he a potential ally, this could remove a potential enemy.

None of that occurred to me in the moment.

What I thought of was the spark of innocence Naruto still had, despite everything he'd been through. He was the only member of Team 7 who could break out in a carefree smile, unburdened by the weight of memories the rest of us carried constantly. He would take a life eventually. That was inevitable, in the world we lived in. But I did not think his first should be here, against a kind-seeming ninja near his own age, while gripped by the hatred, rage and battle-lust of a demon (whose nature he didn't even know yet).

The me that had died on Earth was horrified that my moral framework had shifted such that I was more worried for the psyche of a friend than for the life of a human being. The me that had spent eleven years growing up among the harsh realities, and propaganda, of the ninja world was fine with it. People died all the time, and besides, Naruto wasn't just a friend, he was a teammate and a fellow ninja. Injury—even death—of an outsider was never worth serious injury, mental or physical, of one of our own. I was able to somewhat reconcile the two with the recognition that that particular teammate would save the lives of millions if everything went right. And if it didn't we were all dead anyway, so ending someone's timeline a little ahead of schedule wasn't that big a deal. That was still not that comfortable a rationalization, so I brought my focus back to the situation at hand.

I looked into his eyes, the metaphorical windows into the soul. I'd always thought that was flowery bullshit, that stories that said "his intelligent eyes", "a hint of X in her eyes" (where X is an emotion) were just melodramatic examples of telling rather than showing. But I'd lived two lifetimes reading such stories, and the Narutoverse gave me reason to believe that windows thing might not be so metaphorical after all. So when I was unsure about who exactly was in control of Naruto at the moment, I looked into his eyes.

They were pools of deep red, vertically bisected by his elongated pupils, now thin black slits. They were a sharp contrast to the brilliant blue he usually sported. His lips were drawn back in a sadistic rictus that revealed his pointed, fang-like teeth. The chakra cloak still covered him from head to foot, and was darker and more solid than he'd been He was peppered with enough senbon to rival an armory, but if they affected him at all he gave no indication.

"**Move**," the Naruto-fox said. His voice was deep, and had an inhuman rasp. I felt it in my bones.

"No. Naruto, you don't want to do this."

"**Oh yes I do**," he said, "**she has to die, has to burn.**" He looked behind me, at the—hopefully—unconscious Haku.

She? Oh yeah, Haku's gender confusion.

"Why does she have to die?" Had to keep him talking. Every second without violence would calm him, bring him closer to his normal self.

"**She hurt me. Hurt my teammates. Killed…**" His eyes focused on me, as if for the first time, and a note of hesitation entered his voice. "**Ami? But you…but she…"**

"I'm okay. And you're okay. Everyone's okay." I paused. "This isn't you, Naruto."

"**Not me?**" he asked, "**But I feel so good. So strong. Like nothing could ever hurt me again.**"

"You are strong, you don't need this. Did you hear what she"—I gestured behind me—"said? It's having important people to protect that makes us strong, not powerful chakra. And you did protect them. Protect us. So just let the chakra go."

I took a slow step forward. Naruto took a half-step backward. I took another step forward and gently raised my hand. I brought it up to the edge of the chakra cloak, and stepped forward once more. My hand burned briefly, but the demonic chakra faded before it. As I placed my hand on his shoulder, the red went out of his eyes, revealing their usual electric blue.

"Ami, I—" Naruto began to say, before glancing down at himself, only now seeming to realize how many senbon he had stuck in him.

"Oh," he said, and collapsed bonelessly.

I caught him under the armpits and lowered him slowly to the ground.

It is at this point that I need to remark on the dangers of hubris. Of thinking you are the only one who realizes the idiocy of certain strategies. Of assuming your opponent will follow a certain path, just because most people do.

I'd kept track of the ten archers. They were still raining arrows on my barrier, and none had tried to circle around. I'd written them off, thinking us in no danger from arrows once I'd recognized and neutralized them.

And I continued thinking that, right up until the moment that the arrows from the 11th and 12th archers, positioned on the opposite side of the battlefield from their companions, hit me in the back.

Naruto tumbled from my arms and I fell on top of him.

Everything faded to black.

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* * *

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_So, one more chapter. Not super happy with how it turned out, having too many tangents takes away from the flow, but I wanted to get it finished and published before I get sucked into the vortex of exams. I would say I'd go back and fix it later, but I probably won't, what little time I have for writing goes towards the next chapter._

_The bit with The Principles of War is perhaps a bit unrealistic, but there have been several times throughout history where military strategy became very, very rigid within a given culture, and this was a quick way of saying that. _


End file.
